


The Beast of Gevaudan

by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blood and Gore, Dark Magic, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hunters & Hunting, Knotting, M/M, Mage!Stiles, The Beast of Gevaudan, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/HaleHathNoFury
Summary: In Gevaudan, the villagers lock their doors at night and never enter the forest alone. Out in the dark, the beast kills any that cross its path. Enter the Stilinskis, hunters of the Royal Court of King Louis XV, who have been charged with capturing the Beast. Many have tried, but they have experience and Stiles' training as a mage to aid them.If only he wasn't getting so distracted.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 66
Kudos: 85
Collections: Fandom Cares





	1. To Gevaudan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Giveemhale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giveemhale/gifts).



> This is a gift for Em. Thank you so much for your generosity and I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it!!!
> 
> #BLM

The rain came down in sheets, drenching everything that moved through it. The two riders were no exception, the collars of their leather greatcoats ruined up and buttoned over the lower halves of their faces, their tricorn hats shedding as much as they collected. Their mounts, an iron grey gelding and a blue roan mare built more for hard riding than elegance, were bedraggled, ears horizontal as they plodded through mud that coated their fetlocks. The third horse carried their effects, two large trunks covered with oiled canvas to keep out the worst of the rain. 

They came to a rise, the rest of the land sloping away down into the valley in front of them. There was a river running through the clustered houses, all built of the same dusky stone of the region and centred around the square. Behind the village, the hills rose and fell until they met the rocky range that formed the backbone of the region. The forests that surrounded the village were some of the oldest in the Margeride and dominated by fir and spruce and dotted with rocky outcrops.

The older of the two men pulled his horse to a stop and nodded to the massive wooden cross erected atop a pile of stones. The bronze Christ figure was tortured and the younger man snorted as he regarded it but said nothing as they rode past it. There was a dip that led to a treed slope on one side and the road down into the village on the other and it was from the trees that the young man ran, his face a mask of panic. He had an older man with him, his hair a wild mass even in the downpour. They were running from a group of men, all of them dressed like hunters. 

The younger man looked to his father, for that was who his travelling companion was, and raised an eyebrow. The older man snorted in derision and nodded. 

‘Might as well.’ he said, his words and accent marking him as a Prussian. ‘You need to burn off some energy.’ His son slung one leg over his horse’s withers and slid to the ground, landing easily. 

In front of them, the pair stumbled and the younger man let out a distressed cry as he tried to right them back onto their feet. It was enough to give the men chasing them a chance to catch up and surround them, barking cruel laughter as the pair sprawled in the mud. One of the hunters stepped closer, spitting on them. 

‘Damn soothsayers.’ He used his staff, a length of supple wood that was clearly a weapon, to poke the older man in the ribs. 

They had not noticed the young man’s approach, not until he bent gracefully to scoop up a stone from the ground and throw it with unerring aim just as the hunter raised his staff to bring it down on the older man, the younger crying out again and throwing himself over him to take the blow himself. 

The stone flew true and it cracked into the forehead of the hunter with a sickening crunch. Blood ran down from his broken nose and he yelped and fell back. The group, some five strong, turned as one and the young man grinned and moved with the confidence that spoke of a man used to fighting and who enjoyed nothing more than a good scrap. 

He kicked out the legs of the first man, using his boot on the side of the man’s knee to bring him down and taking the staff he held before following up with a swift blow to the side of the head that saw the hunter go down and stay down. The next to who coam were yelling in anger and he twirled effortlessly around the first, using the staff to counter the blow from the heavy club the man had raised and kicking out, connecting with his stomach and folding him in half before twirling back around and slamming the staff into the other hunter’s gut. It was very effective and that left only the last two - the man with the broken nose and the last, who took one look at the situation and ran for it, his footsteps nothing but a series of wet slaps as he bolted back into the trees. 

The others took that as their cue to leave as well, staggering after him until they were gone and the young man could offer a hand in assistance. 

‘Who were they?’ he asked and the wild-haired man spar into the dirt. 

‘Fucking mercenaries.’ He steadied the younger man and nodded in thanks. ‘If you hadn’t come along, we would have been done for. They don’t take kindly to strangers around here. We thought we would be risking our skins with the Beast, but it’s the people around here you need to be wary of.’ He eyed them both. ‘Who are you anyway?’

‘My name is Miezyslaw Stilinski, but I’m better known as Stiles.’ He nodded at his father, still seated on his horse. ‘That is my father le Chevalier Stilinski as he used to be known in a former life. We have come from Paris under directive from the King to hunt and capture the Beast.’

‘I’m Finstock.’ The older man brought down a hand on his companion’s shoulder. ‘My apprentice, Greenberg. Travelling purveyors of the exotic and unusual.’ 

‘They called you soothsayers.’ Stiles grinned and Finstock snorted. 

‘Parlour tricks to earn an extra penny.’ he admitted. ‘We did not expect it to get us run out of town and our wares confiscated by a horde of uncivilised pigs.’ He spat on the ground again. ‘A pox up on their nether regions!’ 

‘We have nothing else.’ Greenberg whined. He was a pale lad with the rheumy eyes of an old hound. 

Stiles glanced back at Noah and saw the tell tale tightening of his father’s jaw. Noah was an ex soldier, one who harked back to a long line of military men who prided themselves on their defence of the helpless and weak. 

‘I tell you what.’ he said, turning back to them. ‘If you guide us to the best inn in the vicinity, we would be glad to stand you a night’s lodging and appeal to the marquis on your behalf for the return of your goods.’

That brightened them both considerably. 

‘Assuredly.’ Finstock said. ‘Follow us.’ 

Stiles lent him the use of Roscoe, the blue roan being both gentle and happy to accept a stranger on her back so long as Stiles walked by her head. Greenberg took the other side and chattered away to him and Noah about their travels through the Loire. 

‘But surely you must have heard of the Beast.’ Noah said to them. ‘This is an unwise time to be out in the open.’

‘The Beast has restricted itself to the Gevaudan.’ Finstock replied. ‘It attacks lone shepherds and milkmaids. We have not seen it at all, although we have heard all the tales.’

‘There was an attack not one week past.’ Greenberg added. ‘She was killed and mostly devoured.’ He shuddered. ‘They were too late to take her to the Hales.’

‘The Hales?’ Stiles asked, glancing back at Noah. They had enquired after the landowners in the area and knew the Hales were the oldest family to have set up home in the Gevaudan. They had also been the subject of a great deal of local gossip after their chateau had burned down six years previously with almost the entire family inside. Now they were down to the three children of the former Marquise and her brother, who was an invalid that had sustained terrible injuries in the fire saving his nieces and nephew. 

‘Yes.’ Finstock nodded. ‘Madame Lauraine has set up a hospital to care for those victims of the Beast she is able to help. She has a deft hand in the ways of healing. It’s enough to inspire loyalty in those she’s saved. They are all in her service now. Her brother, the Marquis, is a hunter and tracker and the finest in Gevaudan. He’s been after the Beast and come close to catching it a time or two from what we’ve heard.’

What of the Argents?’ Noah asked and Finstock snorted. 

‘They choose to hire mercenaries.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Those men back there belong to him.’

‘Outsiders.’ Stiles was not impressed. 

‘They’ve been causing all kinds of trouble, harassing the villagers and taking what they please.’ Greenberg grumbled. ‘They drove us out because the old Comte has taken against anything that seems remotely ‘unnatural’ in his eyes.’

‘Interesting.’ Noah said but the look he gave Stiles held far much more than that. 

The inn they came to was on the road into the village. It was a simple building, two storeys of the weathered dusky stone of the region with a blaze of warm yellow light in the windows. As they came close, Roscoe nickered and moments later the front door opened. A young man in an oilskin stepped out, a lantern held up against the driving rain. 

‘Good evening.’ he called.

‘Good evening.’ Stiles gave him a friendly grin. ‘You’re McCall?’ Finstock had given them the name. ‘We are the Stilinskis. I believe word may have been sent that we are here to hunt the Beast.’

‘Of course, you are Messieurs les Chevaliers. We heard as much.’ The young man came forward and took hold of Roscoe’s reins. ‘You can call me Scott. My mother and I run the inn.’ He was regarding them all with open curiosity. ‘Do you know each other?’

‘Not exactly.’ Finstock muttered, sliding down off Roscoe’s back. ‘These fine gentlemen came to our aid when the Argent’s men tried to run us off.’ 

‘The Argents.’ Scott seemed taken aback. ‘Surely not. They are fine people.’

‘Ha.’ Finstock swept past him. ‘It is the curse of the merchant class to be beset by those who would deprive a man of an honest living.’

Greenberg followed on his heels and Scott looked like he was about to protest, until Noah coughed to catch his attention. 

‘We have offered them a night’s lodging.’ he explained. ‘Until we can at least have a word and sort out this misunderstanding.’

‘It must be such.’ Scott was almost painfully earnest. ‘The Argents would not allow any misconduct.’ His eyes went vague and dreamy. ‘Especially the young Vicomtesse.’

Stiles and Noah exchanged a look. It wasn’t difficult to see where Scott’s motivation in defending the Argents came from. They themselves knew enough to know that all the Argents political wrangling and posturing came from a desire for power. Gerard, le Comte D’Argent, was well known for his dealings at court prior to his illness and his ruthless acquisition of both property and titles that made his own given title more illustrious, and was in fact the reason they had settled in Gevaudan seven years previously. It was said that he had tried to arrange a marriage between his daughter Katherine and Talia Hale’s son Theoderique, who would inherit the title of Marquis upon his mother’s death. It had never transpired, ostensibly because the fire had wiped out the Hales, destroying their chateau and family legacy in one fell swoop. Christophe Argent held the title of Vicomte but it had been bestowed by being Gerard’s son and not through hereditary lands, and so Katherine would have benefited greatly from marrying well and gaining power over the Hale estate, which was easily the largest and boasted the finest hunting grounds in the region. 

‘I’ll stable your horses.’ Scott said. ‘If you go inside, my mother Melissa will attend to you.’

Noah nodded and went inside. Stiles hovered for a moment. 

‘I could help you with that.’ he said, seeing how Scott was trying to juggle the three leading reins and the lantern. 

‘Thank you.’ Scott grinned. He seemed affable enough and Stiles liked his friendly manner. He took Roscoe’s reins and those of Noah’s horse, Zolna. He was a retired army horse, long faced and with legs like iron, and he followed him placidly even as Roscoe tried to nibble on his coat sleeve. 

The stables were around the side of the inn, set around a small courtyard. Once he’d set the lantern to hang from a hook, Scott got to work. He was quick and able with the horses, handling them easily and getting them settled in three stalls. A meal of fresh hay and buckets of water from the well saw them all happy and he led Stiles in through a side door of the inn, telling him about the rain and the latest victim of the Beast. 

‘Her name was Heather.’ Scott ushered him through the door. ‘She was one of the village washerwomen, along with her mother. The Beast caught her on the outskirts of the village an ripped her open like a ripe melon.’ He made a face. ‘It’s put the fear of God into every man, woman and child here.’

‘Did they recover her?’ Stiles asked, trying not to seem too fascinated. He was often accused of morbidness in relation to his fascination for grim things, but it was part and parcel of his line of work. Noah’s skills gained by a long life in the military and his own magic had given them renown as hunters of the odd and mysterious, although they tended to hide Stiles’ nature as it prompted more questions than they wanted to answer. The King was privy to what they did and engaged them as he saw fit, but he had given them strict instructions to pose as no more than ordinary hunters on their visit to Gevaudan. Rural people were very quick to cry witchcraft when faced with things they could not comprehend and Stiles had no desire to end up tied to a stake and set alight. 

‘She’s being used as bait.’ Scott replied, looking a little ill at the thought. ‘Monsieur le Marquis is a hunter himself and has been tracking the Beast since it first struck. He’s managed to wound it several times but it is too strong and too cunning to be taken down by one man. It’s the reason reinforcements have been called in.’

Stiles looked around as Scott helped him out of his greatcoat and took his hat. It was rough around the edges but warm and the smells coming from what he presumed was the kitchen area enough to make his stomach rumble. He gave Scott a sheepish grin. 

‘It’s been a long journey.’ he explained. ‘And your mother’s cooking does smell good.’

‘She’s the mistress of cassoulet.’ Scott was clearly proud. ‘Come and eat. I’ll bring your luggage in shortly.’ 

They found Noah already stuck into a bowl of the aforementioned cassoulet, using a chunk of crusty bread to scoop up the sauce. He was being attended by a darkly pretty woman in a plain grey dress and white apron, her neck and decolletage hidden by a white palatine pinned with a brooch set with what looked like garnets, the fine lines around her eyes and mouth showing her age. She and Scott had the same near black hair and dark eyes, although hers was caught up under a gauze dormeuse to show her fine forehead and not left to fall in her eyes like her son’s, and Stiles greeted her with all the formality he might show a lady of the court. 

‘Madame.’ he inclined his head. ‘Your food has lured in my father I see.’

‘Good evening, Monsieur le Chevalier.’ Melissa McCall had a lovely smile and Stiles didn’t miss the way his father’s eyes followed her to the open fire. ‘I hope it proves suitable.’

‘It’s excellent.’ Noah tore off another chunk of bread. His hat had also been hung up, revealing his short cut greying hair, another legacy from his time as a soldier. Stiles affected the same style, choosing to completely ignore fashion in favour of practicality. Lice and excessive heat in the more exotic climes they traveled to had instilled a need to keep his hair barely an inch long all over his head, although Noah’s was a touch longer. They also both chose to wear hard-wearing linen shirts under woollen waistcoats, with breeches and the thigh high boots preferred by hunters and all their colours drab to better blend into their surroundings. 

‘Here.’ Melissa had another bowl in her hand. She laid it down and Stiles took his seat, inhaling happily and starting to eat with gusto, accepting a glass of red wine. It was rough, the wine far from the best Stiles had tasted, but it went down well and did much to alleviate his hunger. 

When they were finished eating, Melissa offered them coffee. While they partook she asked them about where they had come from and was most taken with their tales of Paris. 

‘I wished to go there when I was much younger.’ she told them. ‘But then I met my husband and my youthful fancies went out the window.’ 

‘We are not much for cities.’ Noah said, smiling at her. ‘We are not the daintiest of creatures and our manners are often frowned upon by court. Stiles also has a tendency to offend without even meaning to.’ 

‘It’s not my fault everyone is so sensitive.’ Stiles grumbled, reaching for another apple from those being served alongside a plate of cantal. Melissa had a bowlful of them, late for the time of year and a little wrinkled but still sweet. 

‘We heard talk that the King is so infuriated by the Beast that he was sending his finest hunters to take care of it.’ Melissa had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. ‘I did not expect you to both be so eloquent, I will confess.’

‘It’s a common misconception.’ Noah said. ‘But we are men of logic and study as well as action. Stiles has had a great deal of tutelage in all subjects. His mother was a fine writer and artist and he’s inherited her talents. He’s the one that is responsible for the etchings that form the bulk of our collection.’

‘And you’ve travelled many places?’ Scott had dealt with the luggage and was now sitting close to the heart, the tabby kitchen cat curled on his knees. He was beaming at them both. ‘It must be so exciting.’ 

‘We have been a great many places.’ Noah confirmed. ‘Most recently to the Americas. We have plans to go to Africa once the King releases us from this particular duty.’ 

‘Africa!’ Scott’s eyes gleamed. ‘I would dearly love to go there.’ Then he caught his mother’s look and toned down his enthusiasm. ‘Of course, I have my responsibilities here so that is impossible.’

‘What of the Beast?’ Stiles knew when it was time to change the subject. ‘We have only had second hand accounts. It would be good to have the perspective of a local.’

Melissa sighed and smoothed her apron, a gesture she seemingly employed to calm herself. 

‘It appeared the autumn of last year. ’ she said. ‘The first attack was on a young woman named Paige. She was a maid in the service of the Hales and she was caught out in the forests. There was a basket and she was known to be fond of sweet chestnuts, so it was assumed she had been killed while out collecting. The Beast had ripped out her throat and torn what was left to pieces. There were several attacks in quick succession after that and it became clear that this was nor ordinary wolf that was committing these terrible acts.’

‘How many people have been killed?’ Noah asked, pushing his plate aside. 

‘Twelve in all.’ Scott replied. ‘All of them taken in the woods. In one case, the Beast entered the house of a labourer and his pregnant wife and killed them both. It was horrifying.’ 

‘And no survivors?’ Stiles asked, his hopes for witnesses fading fast. Thankfully Melissa shook her head. 

‘There have been three.’ she replied. ‘Two men and a woman. All of them were grievously injured but they were found in time to be taken to Madame Laura. She has set up a hospital for the victims in the family chapel and attends them. I go to help her when I can spare the time.’

‘She is a healer?’ Stiles’s ears pricked up. ‘I would be most interested in speaking with her.’ 

‘She has a great deal of skill.’ Melissa said. ‘The three victims have all recovered and were so grateful to her intervention that they have taken service there themselves.’

‘And her brother, the Marquis?’ Noah asked. ‘We have heard that he hunts the Beast as well.’

‘Monsieur Derek is probably the only person who has managed to both find and wound the Beast.’ Scott said. ‘He’s relentless and tracks it night and day. He’s the best person to speak to if you want to know anything about it.’ 

‘In that case, we shall call on them in the morning.’ Noah said. He got up and Stiles followed, fatigue washing over him now that his belly was full and he was warm and mostly dry. 

‘Scott will see you to your room.’ Melissa smiled. ‘I wish you both a good night.’ 

They replied in kind and followed Scott up the stairs to a large room at the end of the house. It had two beds and a fire was crackling in the grate, casting shadows across the walls. He left them to get settled and returned with a pair of ewers of hot water. 

‘If you like, I can take you in the morning.’ he offered. ‘It may be useful to have someone who knows the lay of the land.’ 

‘Good idea.’ Stiles grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘See you in the morning then.’ Scott said and left them, closing the door behind him. 

Stiles saw Noah testing the bed and chuckled. He had no such restraint and flopped down onto his, a blissful noise escaping him when it proved to be extremely comfortable. 

‘You should wash up first.’ Noah admonished, untying his cravat. ‘You stink of horse.’

‘As do you, old man.’ Stiles said fondly. ‘If you manage to leave me some hot water, I’ll consider it.’

‘I think that we should make our Hales the first stop tomorrow.’ Noah took off one boot and eyed the mud on it with a sigh. ‘I’m assuming that Mademoiselle Martin will also be expecting us to call on her?’

‘Yes. I am most looking forward to meeting her.’ Stiles confirmed, grinning at the thought of finally getting to meet his correspondent in person. Lydia and he had similar interests and she had been writing to him for the past two years. It was through her that he’d gained a lot of insight into the region and its residents. She had a truly brilliant mind and an inheritance that had allowed her to build a spectacular library on the occult and arcane, which she had also used to lure Stiles into coming. ‘We will also no doubt encounter her betrothed. He is the Captain I spoke to you of.’

‘Ah yes, Parrish.’ Noah nodded, working on the other boot. ‘He’s a good man by all accounts. I checked in with a couple of old friends regarding him.’ 

‘She certainly seems enamoured.’ Stiles smiled. ‘A pity. I think we would have made a fine pair.’

‘If she’s as spirited as you say she is, then I would have feared for the entire region.’ Noah chuckled and knocked Stiles’ feet off the bed as he passed. Stiles just laughed and closed his eyes. He needed to rest them, just for a moment but it wasn’t long before the warmth of the fire and the sound of Noah humming a lullaby that Claudia used to sing lulled him into a deep sleep.


	2. Monsieur le Marquis and Madame Laura

Stiles woke with the dawn, the sound of the inn’s cockerel drifting in through the shuttered windows. He mumbled and turned over, squinting at his father’s empty bed before getting up and availing himself of the chamber pot. After that it was to the washstand and using the rest of the water in the ewer to wash up. He ran a hand over his jaw and went to retrieve his razor from his pack, preferring a clean shaven face. He took his time, lathering up the brush with his precious orange flower soap. Noah liked to tease him about smelling like a spring orchard but it had been Claudia’s favourite scent and Stiles adored it. Once done, he dried off with a piece of rough linen and dressed. 

Downstairs he found Melissa cooking and Noah at the table with bread, cheese and some thick sliced ham. 

‘The ham and cheese are from the Hales.’ Melissa told them when Stiles asked after it. ‘Their pigs feed in the forests and Isaac does something miraculous with smoke that makes the ham by far the best in the region. The cheeses are Erica’s domain.’

‘They are in their service?’ Noah asked, accepting a refill of tea from the pot. 

‘They are. Erica was the next victim after Paige. She was a milkmaid but her injuries took her out of work and Madame Laura engaged her in the house instead. Isaac and his father were attacked in the winter.’ Melissa pursed her lips. ‘Lahey was our gravedigger at the cemetery. He was not a good man - a drinker and rough with his boys. Camden, the older, joined the garrison at Lyon. Isaac stayed as long as he could and when the Beast came for them in the night, he tried his best to save his father, in spite of all the ill treatment he’d been dealt. He was lucky. Madame Laura managed to heal him and now he tends her animals. He’s a good boy and he and Scott are friends.’

‘Where is Scott?’ Stiles asked, his mouth full. He didn’t care about politeness, not when the ham was so sublime and the cheese rich and nutty. 

‘Outside, saddling the horses.’ Noah told him. ‘He’s coming along with us.’ 

Melissa saw them off at the door and they found Scott busy trying to get Roscoe to pull her belly in so he could tighten the girth. Stiles laughed and took over, jabbing her hard enough to get her to blow out the air she was holding in and then tightened it. 

Noah was already mounted up when he led Roscoe out. Scott’s mount was a sturdy chestnut gelding with a blond mane and tail. He wheezed a little when Scott got on, then turned out into the road and trotted off. Stiles and Noah followed, taking in the sight of the valley now that it was light and the rain had stopped. The road was well ridden, the mud already drying into thick black earth. The trees closed in on them and then opened up to reveal clusters of the same dusky stone buildings far below and a crossroads with trails leading off to the left and right. 

‘That’s the village.’ Scott was pointing ahead. ‘If you continue through and keep north for three miles you'll reach the Argent’s chateau. The Hales are that way.’ He nodded to the right where the road disappeared into the trees. 

‘That’s the way we’ll be going then.’ Noah smiled and trotted past him. Stiles lingered at the back, breathing in deep the smells of autumn. The air was crisp and clean, some of the trees starting to shed their leaves. The thud of hooves was dulled by a thick layer of them and he could only imagine what it must be like in winter when the snows fell. 

Scott was asking Noah questions about what kind of animals they had procured for the King and Noah was recounting an amusing story of a furry trout. Stiles grinned to himself. Taxidermy was a mutual passion and he’d helped Noah with his most famous of exhibits. Now though, he preferred to let the forest soothe his lightning quick mind, getting lost in the beauty of the place. 

They rode until they saw a massive pair of stone posts. The iron gates were standing open, overgrown with vegetation. 

‘That’s where the chateau was.’ Scott said, turning Marmote’s head. ‘They live in the old stable block now.’

Stiles met Noah’s eyes, his father’s expression of surprise almost comical. 

‘Why did they not rebuild?’ Stiles asked, curious. The pathway Scott was taking them down ran along a low border wall and he could just see the remains of a formal garden on the other side and beyond that, something that could have been walls. 

‘Nobody really knows.’ Scott replied. ‘The Hales were always reserved but after the fire they became reclusive. Only Madame Laura comes to the village. Monsieur Derek and Mademoiselle Cora never leave the estate if they can help it.’

Along the wall they found a smaller gate and went in that way. Soon the trees gave way to another building, this one built on a u-shape. It was grander than most houses with two storeys and a magnificent facade over the entrance that ran through the front block. Inside, the yard was cobbled and there was a beautiful fountain in the middle. The bronze statue showed what looked like a pack of wolves taking down a stag and Stiles felt an odd shiver go down his spine when he saw it. 

On all sides was a series of arches forming a colonnade leading to the stalls and the coach house. The rear block was entered by a double staircase leading up to a huge wooden door. The second storey would have housed a veritable army of grooms and coachmen, but now it served as a home. Smoke came from the chimneys and fat speckled chickens pecked at the cobbles, which were more than a little overgrown with chelidoine. 

‘Scott.’ The man who approached them was huge, taller then either Stiles or Noah. He was black, an unusual sight in the countryside, but he was dressed well enough. His boots looked good quality and his shirt was white linen, a fine weave that would cost a good sou or two. Over it he wore a leather jerkin and a bottle green woolen jacket. His black eyes were bright and full of question when he got to them. 

‘Boyd.’ Scott grinned and slid from Marmote’s back. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Who are your friends?’ Boyd’s voice was low and soft and clearly accented. 

‘These are the Chevaliers that have been sent to come and hunt the Beast.’ Scott told him. ‘They have come to call on Madame Laura to ask he about it.’ He turned back to them. ‘This is Vernon Boyd. He keeps the stables and is affianced to Erica.’ 

Noah and Stiles dismounted and greeted him formally. Boyd, having no hat to doff, inclined his head and gestured to the stairs. 

‘Messieurs, I’ll put your horses up.’ he said. ‘Erica and Madame are inside. Cora is already afield and Derek is yet to come home since he left two days ago. He is out stalking the Beast.’ 

‘This place is very imposing.' Noah remarked, taking off his gloves and looking around him. 

‘The family were fond of horses.’ Boyd said, his face impassive. ‘Most of those they sold after the fire. There are only enough to fill one stable now. The rest of the space is for the cows and chickens. The pigs forage in the woods, so they have no need for a roof. Go inside, Erica will know you’re coming.’ 

Noah nodded his thanks and Stiles fell into step beside him. Scott was talking to Boyd so he took the opportunity to nudge his father in the side with his elbow. 

‘American?’ he asked and Noah nodded. 

‘Louisiana.’ he said with a look of distaste. Stiles was well aware of Noah’s intense hatred for slavers and had inherited it himself. 

They ascended the stairs and found the door opening just as they reached it. The young woman behind it was charmingly beautiful. Her gown was plain spun wool in a soft dove grey and her apron was snowy white, as was her pinner cap. Underneath it, her hair was as golden as late summer wheat and she wore no fichu to hide her ample bosom. She blinked big brown eyes at them, too mischievous to be doe-like. 

‘Messieurs les Chevaliers.’ she said and beckoned them in. ‘Please. My lady is waiting for you.’

‘How…’ Noah started but Erica simply bustled them around, relieving them of hats and coats. 

‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ she said by way of explanation. ‘Isaac was in the village last night and stopped by the inn on his way back. He said you were there.’ 

‘Oh.’ Noah said, obviously at a loss, and Stiles grinned and took the opportunity to look around him. The room they were in was long and had a door at each end. There were windows in the exterior wall that flanked a huge fireplace, the warmth from the flames making the whole place very welcoming. The parquet floors were well polished and there was a rug in front of the fireplace, on which was ensconced a massive grey dog that looked so much like a wolf that he and Noah both took a step back. 

‘Never mind her.’ Erica had finished hanging their things up and held the door open. The dog got up, stretching out her front legs and yawning to show off massive teeth. She stopped to briefly rub her head against Erica’s hand before she was out the door. 

‘Mademoiselle…’ Noah started but Erica cut him off with a throaty laugh that was far too knowing. 

‘Erica.’ she corrected him, swinging past with a saucy sway to her hips. ‘Madame Laura is this way.’

Stiles noted the familiarity and gave his father a look. Noah shrugged minutely and followed. The door to the left brought them into a long corridor that ran the length of the rear part of the building. They passed two that were closed before Erica opened another that was clearly the corner of the wing, with windows that overlooked boths aspects. This was furnished as a sitting room, with chaises and low tables. There was another lit fireplace and more rugs, thick Turkish ones in vibrant deep reds, greens and midnight blue. All of them looked very costly and depicted forest scenes with beautifully depicted animals. One one wall was a walnut bureau inlaid with lighter coloured wood and it was there that their hostess was sitting. She turned to look at them, getting up and regarding them both. 

The first thing Stiles noticed was Laura’s eyes. They were exquisite, pale jade green with a hint of gold around the iris. Her skin was translucent, her hair a rich dark brown that veered to black. At court she would have been regarded as a great beauty and yet she also had an air of complete untouchability about her, like a perfectly carved marble statue. Her robe a la francaise was dark blue silk taffeta, a normal choice for a rich woman. The fabric was plain though, defiant in its seriousness, and even the petticoat revealed by the split skirt had no further pattern to it with the only frivolity provided by delicate white lace engageantes under the dark blue outer ruffles. Laura wore little in the way of ornamentation apart from that. She had a pair of ear fobs of delicate sea pearls and that was all the jewelry she wore apart from two rings on a chain around her neck and looped into her bodice. Then again, she needed little. Her dark hair was drawn back from her clear forehead and twisted into a coil at the back of her head and when she came towards them, the hands she extended had blunt serviceable nails and a roughness to it that spoke of hard work. 

Stiles recalled Melissa’s statement that Laura had started a hospital for the victims and knew that she clearly not afraid of labour . 

‘Messieurs les Chevaliers.’ she said and her voice was husky and soft, deeper than Stiles had expected it to be. ‘Welcome to our home.’ 

‘Madame Hale.’ Noah bowed and Stiles followed suit. 

‘Please. You may address me as Laura.’ Laura gestured to one of the chaises. ‘We are very pleased that you have come. Mademoiselle Martin has told me many good things about you and your reputation at court has managed to even make it as far as the Gevaudan.’ 

Stiles was intrigued. She was clearly a woman of breeding and authority - it rolled off her effortlessly - but her invitation to use her given anime, along with the obvious familiarity of those in service to her, was at odds with all of Stiles experience of the French aristocracy. 

‘Madame Laura.’ Noah repeated, his sense of decorum too deeply engrained to completely abandon all pretence of formality. ‘I am pleased that we are able to make ourselves of use to you. I know that the Kind is most eager that we capture this Beast for his collection, but I assure you that we take the safety of this village very seriously and our first objective is simply to prevent any further killings.’ 

‘I assumed as much from what I heard.’ Laura said and then smiled when Erica reentered with a silver tea service and cups of delicate china painted with tiny blue and gold flowers. 

They accepted the tea and Stiles frowned at the cup in his hand. 

‘Is this monkshood?’ he asked, completely out of turn, and Laura chuckled. 

‘We call it aconit.’ she replied, sipping her tea. ‘Or wolfsbane.’

‘Very apt.’ Noah observed. ‘Especially in these times.’

‘Ah.’ Laura said, her green eyes shrewd. ‘So you believe it is a wolf?’

Stiles drew in a deep breath. He and Noah had read all the accounts that had come from Lydia and from other sources and many had ventured the opinion that the Beast was an unusually large and aggressive wolf. 

‘You do not?’ he asked and Laura tilted her head in an odd little gesture, a smile playing about her lips. 

‘I believe that saying the Beast is a wolf is too simple an explanation.’ she replied. ‘My brother is a remarkably good hunter and tracker. He knows this valley and the forests around it better than I know the inside of my own home. He does not believe it is a wolf and I am inclined to believe him. I am also intimately acquainted with the injuries the Beast has caused and I have never in all my years seen the like of them.’

‘Yes, Madame McCall told us that you have set up a hospital.’ Noah set down his teacup. ‘It is partly the reason we have come to call on you. We would greatly appreciate any and all information you would be able to give us that might aid us in this matter.’

‘Of course.’ Laura replied. ‘Although it is not a tale for weak stomachs. I was most fortunately given training in the medical arts by our local medecin, Monsieur Deaton. He was a good friend of my mother’s and when I told her of my interest in such things, she arranged an apprenticeship of sorts.’

‘You are most charitable.’ Stiles smiled. ‘And clearly have a strong stomach if you are to be believed.’

‘I do.’ Laura said firmly. ‘But I am not a miracle worker. Most of the victims were so terribly savaged that I was unable to save them or even give them any respite from the pain. It has been a grim business. Fortunately, Mademoiselle Martin has been willing to write up all the accounts and she will no doubt show these to you when you call on her.’ 

‘You clearly know of our friendship.’ Stiles was pleased. This would make things much easier.

‘She and I share a confidence.’ Laura’s eyes were now sparkling. ‘One I am sure you are aware of.’ 

‘Monsieur le Capitane.’ Stiles laughed. ‘Oh I know all about him.’ 

‘They use our lodge as a meeting place.’ Laura said. ‘Madame Martin has certain ideas as to who she would like Lydia to marry. She does not approve of her falling in love with a lowly soldier.’

‘Parrish is a fine man and commissioned.’ Noah frowned, clearly offended on Parrish’s behalf.

‘Not to Natalie Martin.’ Laura replied. ‘She has her sights set on a young Vicomte named Whittemore. He is staying with the Argents at present, visiting for the winter. I suspect that he came so he could hunt the Beast and impress Lydia enough that she would agree to marry him.’ Her mouth curved into a wicked smile. ‘He has been terribly unsuccessful in both regards.’  
Stiles grinned. He liked Lydia enormously and he knew that he would feel the very same way about Laura soon enough. 

‘Tell us about the Beast.’ Noah said and she sighed and nodded. 

‘As you have no doubt heard, it appeared last autumn.’ she said. ‘It attacked some local flocks, killing indiscriminately. It was a full month before it took its first human prey.’

‘And that was Paige.’ Noah was watching her intently, all focus as he leaned forward. 

‘She was the daughter of travelling Prussian musicians.’ Laura started. ‘She played the cello most beautifully. Her parents were unfortunately beset on the road to Lyon and killed when she was thirteen and she found her way into our house, first as a ward and then as a part of our family.’ 

‘Madame McCall said she was a maid.’ Stiles glanced at Noah to see him equally bemused. 

‘Paige was a great deal more than just a maid, Chevalier.’ Laura said, her face stern. ‘She was in our service but everyone who is is also a part of us. As you can see, we are but few here. Paige came to us in the first year after the fire that took our home and our family and she did more to ease the pain that we felt than a mere servant could have.’

‘We didn’t know that.’ Stiles replied. ‘Our apologies.’

‘Her death was a tragedy.’ Laura’s hands twisted together in her lap. ‘What Melissa is unaware of is that there was an understanding between Paige and Derek, my brother. We did not make it public knowledge for fear of judgement. Derek has never cared a whit for social protocol. He fell in love with her because she was kind and generous and sweet and she taught him how to trust and love again. For her to be taken from us in such a cruel way has made us all angry and desperately sad.’ 

‘Our sincere condolences then.’ Noah said. ‘We understand what it is to lose someone so loved.’

‘Lydia has mentioned this.’ Laura stood up and walked to the fire, standing there and looking into the flames before she turned back around. ‘It is for this reason alone that I decided to try and save as many as I could. I could not save her but I have managed to save others and it gives me some small comfort.’

‘Erica.’ Stiles said and she nodded. 

‘And Boyd and Isaac.’ she replied. ‘Now they remain here. Erica looks strong but she cannot return to her former occupation. Isaac had nowhere else to go and so he stayed here. Boyd…’ She trailed off, looking horribly sad. 

‘We have not heard about him.’ Noah pressed and she exhaled loudly through her nose. It was not quite a snort, but close, and Stiles liked her even more.

‘What do you know of the Argents?’ she asked and Noah blinked at the change in topic. 

‘What is the connection?’ he countered and Laura’s expression was one of barely contained anger. 

‘You are aware of how they made their fortune?’ she asked and Noah’s lips thinned. 

‘I have heard.’ he said, his own anger visible in the twitch of his lips. ‘They came from Louisiana.’

‘Yes. Boyd and his sister Alicia were brought to Paris when they were only children.’ Laura came back to sit down again. ‘They were raised in that house until the Argents came to Gevaudan, when they were a few years older. Alicia was starting to show great promise of beauty her final year, even at fourteen. It did not go unnoticed. Boyd had already been subjected to the attention of Gerard’s daughter, Katherine, so he was well aware of what was about to come. The night they were attacked was the night they ran from the Argents. It was in January and the snow was so thick that they got lost in the woods. Derek was out hunting the Beast and he was the one who found them. Alica was unfortunately beyond my help but Boyd was stronger and he survived. Now he has been with us for ten months and I will never let the Argents get their hands on him again.’ 

‘My God.’ Noah shook his head. ‘So they all survived? That is truly a testament to your skill.’

‘Thank you.’ Laura was solemn. ‘But I wouldn’t have been able to help any of them if it had not been for my brother. He has a miraculous nose for finding people.’ 

‘You have another sister, I believe?’ Stiles ventured. ‘Mademoiselle Coraline?’

‘Cora.’ Laura smiled. ‘She is but seventeen and still a little wild. I haven’t been the best disciplinarian. She loves the woods and takes after Derek in her desire to hunt and track. The people in the village find it scandalous. Then again, none of us are what society expects. So now Erica helps me keep this house, Isaac is responsible for our livestock and Boyd the horses and general maintenance of the estate. Derek supplies our table. We all have a part to play. We are no longer the rich powerful family we once were and quite frankly, all we wish is to live in peace. The Beast has destroyed that and so we would be indebted if you could help us rid ourselves of it.’  
Stiles was loud and overly energetic. It helped him to disarm people and allow them to miss the fact that he was also incredibly observant and an excellent listener. Now he was listening for the things Laura hadn’t said and the almost personal nature in which she spoke of the Beast told him there was more to the story than she was telling. 

He just needed to find out what it was. 

They sat and spoke a while longer. Laura told them of the village and the families that lived there. She also imparted a little more information regarding the Beast. It had started attacking at dawn or dusk but the past months had seen it grow ever bolder. The last attack had been in broad daylight. The Beast left few tracks and seemed to enjoy toying with its victims. It would routinely gut the people it attacked, mutilating them beyond recognition. 

That detail made Stiles prick up his ears. He couldn’t be sure, obviously being unable to see underneath clothing, but what he’d seen of both Boyd and Erica had been unblemished and whole. It definitely warranted further investigation. 

He hadn’t noticed how much time passed until Erica came back, leading in a tall young man with an earnest handsome face and dark brown hair tied back in a queue. He was wearing an immaculate red coat and his boots were polished to a mirror shine and his smile when he doffed his hat to them was genuinely pleased. He greeted Laaura first and then turned to them

‘Messieurs les Chevaliers.’ He stood tall and regarded them both with clear hazel eyes. ‘I was told you were here.’

‘News travels fast, Capitane.’ Noah grinned. ‘May I ask how.’ 

‘Madame McCall.’ Parrish replied. ‘I stopped at the inn to call on you and invited you to come look at the site where the last victim was attacked. Monsieur le Marquis is already stalking the woods but I thought that an extra pair of hands would be welcome.’ 

‘That’s an excellent idea.’ Noah replied. ‘Madame Laura.’ He inclined his head to her and Stiles followed suit. 

‘Please.’ She smiled at them and it felt like they’d all just been given permission. Stiles really needed to have a quiet talk with her to find out she managed to so effortlessly convey authority. 

He was about to leave when she moved and he startled to feel her hand on his arm. He hadn’t heard her move at all and the distance she’d crossed meant she’d moved extremely quickly. 

‘I don’t know just what Lydia has told you.’ Laura’s voice dropped. ‘But please be careful. This Beast is not...natural.’ There was a world of meaning in her words and Stiles frowned at her. 

‘Why…?’ he started and she shook her head, looked down to the door that his father and Parrish and disappeared through.

‘You are not like any others that have come here.’ Her green eyes were almost glowing. ‘You’re different.’ The stress she put on the word different had Stiles inhaling sharply in surprised. Nobody ever managed to figure out just what he was. He’d learned to hide it well over the years. 

‘Neither are you, are you?’ he asked softly and Laura stepped back from him. She raised a finger to her lips, which were curved in a secretive smile and Stiles was even more astonished. 

‘This valley holds many secrets.’ she replied. ‘But I trust you to keep them.’

Stiles was lost for words. Then Noah called for him and he inclined his head and left the room, shaken to the core by what had just happened. 

Erica saw them off, waving at Boyd from the steps before she went back inside. Boyd and Scott were waiting for them, the horses all ready. Parrish’s mount, a tall chestnut mare, was with them and Stiles snorted to see that Zolna was already making eyes at her. He often forgot he had no equipment to breed and had an eye for a pretty mare. 

‘Where are you going?’ Boyd asked as they got on. 

‘I’m taking them to the last place.’ Parrish said. ‘Derek’s laid traps.’

‘Good.’ Boyd stepped back, folding his massive arms. ‘The sooner that bitch takes a bullet to the head, the sooner we all get some peace in knowing she won’t kill anyone else.’ He spat on the ground and Stiles noted that he’d made it clear that the Beast was female. 

‘We’ll do our best.’ Parrish promised and clapped his heels to his horse’s sides. She broke into a brisk canter, her hooves clattering on the cobbles. Zolna needed no encouragement and of course that meant Roscoe lurching like a ship on a stormy sea to follow her stablemate. Scott brought up the rear, Marmite clearly not that interested in keeping up. 

They rode into the forest, taking pathways that grew narrower until they were simply following Parrish. The trees here were older and gnarled and the diffused light had a sinister quality to it. It was a longer ride than to the estate and when the trees eventually thinned and opened out onto a stretch of uneven ground covered in meadow grass and wildflowers, the sun was high above them. 

‘There.’ Parrish pointed a gloved finger down the small rise they were currently at the top of. In the hollow at the bottom was a small body of stagnant water. The stench rising from it was enough to make Stiles gag as they approached, dismounting a few feet away and then moving to inspect the naked dead woman lying half in the water. 

‘She’s one of the Kincaids.’ Parrish came up behind them. ‘She was killed two days ago.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’ Noah had a hand to his nose. ‘And smell it.’

Stiles was riveted. His mind was already turning over all the details he could see in front of him. The young woman had an enormous bite taken out of her side, clearly what had killed her. Her skin was as pale as snow, the blood all completely drained from her. Her eyes were open, filmy and blue and he shuffled to the edge of the pond, ready to crouch and have a good look. 

‘Stop!’ The shout was enough to startle him into retreating. He looked up to see a tall figure striding out from the trees and blinked, sure he was seeing a vision. 

Stiles had never been under any illusions about the people he found attractive. Men and women were akin to him, and he’d happily lost every aspect of his virginity in a very select whorehouse in the arms of one of each. Now he stood with his mouth hanging open as the man got to them, looking absolutely furious and more beautiful than anyone Stiles has ever seen. It was obvious that he was the Marquis, his resemblance to his older sister striking. His eyes were just as green, the gold a little more pronounced, and his shaggy hair was black rather than deep brown but he carried himself with the same effortless grace, eating up the ground with his long legs. His clothing was not the finery one would expect from a Marquis. He wore clothes similar to those that Stiles and Noah wore, the only concession to his rank a well cut and well loved chamois coat that was a little long in the sleeves and dyed black. It was of an older style though and its brass buttons were dulled from exposure to the elements so Stiles could only guess it had belonged to an older relative, perhaps the Marquis’ father. 

He was magnificent and Stiles did the only thing he could when faced with impossibly beautiful people and went on the offensive. 

‘Why not?’ he challenged and the Marquis stopped short. He was obviously not used to people defying him because his thick eyebrows drew down into a fierce scowl and he bared his teeth at Stiles, showing two at the front which were slightly longer than the others. 

‘Look around.’ he snapped and Stiles did, noting for the first time the dead crows scattered around the pond that he’d missed in his focused state. 

‘Oh.’ He withdrew and then sniffed, the telltale sweet scent alerting him. ‘Poison?’

‘Yes.’ The Marquis came to stand next to him. He smelled like manly sweat, the woods and crisp mountain air. It was a heady combination and Stiles sniffed discreetly, ignoring Noah’s smirk. ‘She’s full of it. I was hoping the Beast would return for a second bite.’

‘It’s enormous.’ Noah was staring at the bite, the flesh at the edges shredded and her innards spilled out into the water. 

‘We were hoping to take some measurements.’ Stiles said and the marquis turned his luminous eyes on him. Like Laura’s they seemed to glow from within. He raised one eloquent eyebrow and then nodded, blowing the air out his nose the same way Laura had but far more loudly. 

‘Of course, Monsieur le Chevalier.’ He made an ironic little gesture and Stiles bristled. 

‘My thanks, Monsieur le Marquis.’ he responded and got another scowl. 

‘Derek.’ The Marquis grunted, then stepped aside to let Stiles pass. He went to Roscoe, retrieving a sketch pad, charcoal and some callipers from his saddlebag. 

‘Noah.’ Noah had his hand to his chest. ‘And my son Miezyslaw.’ 

Stiles.’ Stiles corrected as he crouched down, careful to avoid disturbing the corpse. ‘She was naked when you found her?’

‘Yes.’ Derek was peering over his shoulder. ‘Her clothing was folded at the edge. We presume she was bathing.’ 

‘Her name?’ Noah asked, also watching what Stiles was doing. 

‘Heather.’ Parris said. ‘She works with her mother as a washerwoman.’ He winced and then sighed. ‘Worked. Her parents are understandably distressed.’ 

‘Fascinating.’ Stiles muttered under his breath, pocketing the callipers and taking out his hunting knife from its sheath at his hip. He used the blade to delicately lift up the torn edges of the bite. ‘If I didn’t know better, I would say it was some kind of big cat.’ 

‘What?’ Derek’s voice was sharp. ‘A cat?’

‘Yes.’ Stiles straightened up, sheathing his knife and putting both hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene. ‘She was ambushed. That is cat behaviour. A wolf would have chased her. The bite mark is also remarkable. The bones are crushed underneath and those…’ He pointed out several puncture marks dotting the woman’s body. ‘Those are claw marks and not teeth. It would also explain the superior speed and stealth. The question is, what the hell is a big cat doing here in France and the Gevaudan in particular.’

‘We have lynxes.’ Parrish offered and Derek made an odd growling noise that cut him off. 

‘Lynxes are small and solitary.’ he snapped. ‘This is not a lynx.’ His eyes were fixed on Stiles. ‘I’m intrigued as to what kind of cat you consider capable of doing this.’

‘You know of tigers?’ Stiles asked and Derek nodded. ‘I have seen one attack a young elephant and take it down. They are formidable creatures.’

‘But they also reside in India.’ Derek replied curtly. ‘And the last time I checked, the Gevaudan was very far from there.’ 

‘There were lions here once.’ Stiles countered. ‘In prehistoric times they roamed the countryside as freely as wolves do now. I have heard tales of creatures from the past left behind and still living. It would not be as far-fetched as you seem to think.’

‘Ye Gods.’ Parrish muttered, looking at the young woman. ‘All I know is that she must be stopped.’ 

‘You are one of several that had called the Beast she.’ Stiles flipped open his pad and began to sketch, his hand moving deftly across the page as charcoal lines brought the unfortunate young woman to his page. 

‘I…’ Parrish looked at Derek and he sighed. 

‘The Beast is female.’ he stated. ‘I may not have been to the Sorbonne but I am well acquainted enough with anatomy to be able to tell the difference.’

‘I’m sure.’ Stiles did not take his eyes off the page. ‘You hunt her.’

‘I have since she killed Paige.’ Derek’s words were sharp. ‘And I will see her pelt across my floor before the year is out.’

‘All right then.’ Noah was regarding their exchange with amusement twinkling in his grey eyes. ‘We shall do our best to ensure that happens. But for that to happen, we would need your help and everything you know about her.’

‘She’s massive.’ Derek replied. ‘I would say she stands almost a toise at the shoulder. Her bulk is significant, maybe 5 quintals at a conservative estimate. You are right about the claws, Chevalier. She used them to hold her prey fast while she consumes them. Sometimes she leaves only scraps, sometimes she simply takes a bite like she has here.’ 

‘What of her colouration and shape?’ Stiles looked over his shoulder at him. ‘Is her hide speckled or striped? What do her eyes look like?’

‘She is dark.’ Derek said slowly. ‘Dusky, like she is made of shadows. She seems to be striped in certain lights and her eyes are green.’

‘Like yours?’ Stiles asked before he could stop himself and was surprised when the corner of Derek’s mouth twitched. It was as sharply made as the rest of his features and with the cut of his jaw and his fine straight nose he resembled many of the classical statues Stiles was familiar with from his studies of mythology and art. He would have made a fine subject. 

‘No.’ he replied. ‘Darker. Brighter. Like emeralds.’ 

‘Interesting.’ Stiles said and went back to sketching. He did not miss his father’s grin and ducked his head, fighting the blush that was threatening to stain his cheeks.


	3. La Famille Martin

They spent a good hour in the Marquis’ company, getting a feel for the valley and the mountains that surrounded it. 

‘This place is treacherous when you do not respect it.’ Derek declared. ‘The snows fall deep in winter and the gorges are difficult to spot. The unwary can fall and break a limb, then freeze to death before they are even missed.’

‘We are well versed in the ways of mountains.’ Noah replied. ‘Stiles’ mother was from the Carpathians. We met in a winter that froze the very eyeballs in one’s head.’ He smiled and it was tinged with sadness. ‘I found her dancing in a circle of trees and she was so beautiful that I ended up staying in that god-forsaken place for the next three years.’ 

Stiles smiled as he listened to the story. Claudia still held a special place in Noah’s heart even though she’d been long gone from their lives. He was now working on an identikit of the Beast and Parrish was seated next to him, watching with interest. 

‘I see why you and Lydia are friends.’ he remarked. ‘She too is very talented when it comes to drawing.’ 

‘We share many interests.’ Stiles gave him a sly smile. ‘And many secrets.’ 

Parrish had a boyish smile and Stiles could see why Lydia was so in love with him. He exuded earnestness and kindness, a rare enough thing in most men of his occupation, and his green eyes, much darker than Derek’s he couldn’t help but notice, shone with quiet intelligence. 

‘She trusts you as she would a brother.’ he replied. ‘And so shall I.’

‘Thank you.’ Stiles meant it. ‘We will certainly need your aid from what I have seen so far. Finstock and Greenberg told us of the mercenaries that the Argents have employed.’ 

‘Not all the Argents.’ Parrish snorted. ‘Monsieur Le Vicomte is an honourable man. He refused to become involved in his father’s trade and made his own way as a master of arms. His rifles are some of the finest manufactured in France and his daughter, Mademoiselle La Vicomtesse, is a fine markswoman and hunter. She is an unusual example of her sex, not only learning her father’s trade but also going against tat of her grandfather.’

‘I had not heard that take before.’ Stiles was intrigued. ‘But then we are seldom at court long enough to hear all the gossip.’

‘It is rumoured that is why Christophe married Victoire.’ This was from Derek. He had come up behind them and once again Stiles couldn’t help but admire how soundlessly he moved. ‘Gerard cut him off when Chris refused to go into the slave trade with him and so he had to find another source of income. Victoire’s family are merchants that do business in England and very wealthy. As the sole heir once her parents died, she inherited an enormous amount of money and Chris used this to fund his own ventures. Allison, Mademoiselle Argent, has inherited both her mother’s shrewdness in business and her father’s expertise. They are good people.’

‘I’m sure that you are aware of how tales of your relations with the Argents have circulated.’ Stiles closed his folio. He was about to get up when Derek held out a hand, taking it for him and then offering his other to help him to his feet. Stiles took the offered hand, somewhat surprised and then catching his breath at the effortless way Derek pulled him to his feet. He was remarkably strong and Stiles had always had an eye for a strong man. 

‘Gerard sought a marriage between myself and his daughter, Katherine, when they arrived in Gevaudan.’ His eyes were hard, glinting in the pale light. ‘I was but eighteen, although that is considered old enough. Katherine was already twenty-seven and her age and the nature of the Argents’ wealth gave my parents pause. They refused the offer and it was enough to start a disagreement that would have no doubt continued to this day, but for the fire that burned them alive in their own chateau.’ The ice in his voice only served to make the words he spoke even more emphatic. 

‘That is news to us.’ Noah said. ‘We were under the impression that the fire was the reason the marriage never took place.’

Derek’s mouth quirked. He looked at Parrish, who nodded. 

‘Try them.’ he said and Stiles and Noah exchanged looks. There was something here that they knew was going to be important. Derek took a while to speak but when he did, what he said had them both staring at him in astonishment. 

‘The fire was no accident.’ he finally said, voice low and soft with grief. ‘It was done in order to remove my parents as an obstacle to the marriage. My mother and father had made it very clear that they were never going to sanction my marriage to a family that profited off the misery of others as boldly as they do. I was young and stupidly led and was furious when they told the Argents because I thought I was in love. I stormed out, went to go lick my wounds in the woods. My sisters came to find me, to bring me home but when we arrived, the whole place was ablaze and we could only watch as our entire family was destroyed.’ 

‘And you are sure it was the Argents?’ Noah asked, his grey eyes sharp. ‘That is a very serious accusation.’

‘And thus the reason we have never made it.’ Derek’s huff was humourless. ‘We had nothing in the way of evidence to prove it. So they got away with murdering everyone and we were left homeless and orphaned. Cora was but a child and Laura only just turned eighteen. We were very fortunate that our family’s wealth was not all tied up in the estate and so we have enough to live on and do not seek to have more than that. Greed is the way of the devil.’  
Stiles wasn’t often lost for words but the resignation on Derek’s face made it seem as if any words he offered would be useless. He recognised the grief he felt all too well and his first instinct was to comfort. He stepped forward, his hand going to Derek’s arm. Derek startled a little and looked at him, his green eyes questioning. Stiles remained silent, shaking his head and looking to his father. 

‘Laura told us of Boyd and Alicia and the Argents’ treatment of them.’ Noah said. ‘I have little trouble believing them capable of such a crime.’

‘They are insufferable in their arrogance.’ Parrish looked as angry as Stiles felt. ‘The mercenaries were hired by Kate, acting on orders from her father. They have no respect for property or decency and my men and I have had more trouble managing their ill behaviour than they are worth. As for their skill as hunters, none of them have managed to even get as much as a sniff of the Beast. All they do is lounge around the village and cause fights and harass the women.’ 

‘It would seem we have arrived not a moment too soon.’ Noah remarks and then looked up as the sound of a long low howl echoed through the air. It sounded far away but Derek’s entire demeanour changed when he heard it. He stepped back from Stiles and looked in the direction of the mountains behind them. 

‘You need to go.’ he said without explanation. ‘Parrish?’ 

‘I’ll deliver them to the Martins.’ Parrish promised and Derek gave him a curt nod, then raised his fingers to his lips and whistled. The shrill note followed on the tail of another howl and a moment later a tall black horse came trotting from the trees. Stiles was an admirer of horses and he immediately identified it as a Spanish stallion whose coat was as shiny and black as the wing of a raven. 

‘His name is Camaro.’ Derek said softly, once again right by his side. ‘He was my final gift from my parents. Now he earns his keep servicing the mares from the garrison and the surrounding estates.’ He gave Stiles a sidelong smirk as the stallion got to them and affectionately pushed his head into Derek’s chest. ‘It’s not a bad way to make a living. Easier than capturing wild animals for the king.’

‘No doubt.’ Stiles returned the smirk with a grin of his own. ‘You will help us then?’

‘I thought I already was.’ Derek replied and swung himself into the saddle easily. He inclined his head to them. ‘A pleasure, Messieurs Les Chevaliers.’ 

‘The pleasure was ours, Monsieur le Marquis.’ Noah came up behind him, a hand squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. ‘I hope we shall meet again soon.’

Derek’s mouth quirked again and Stiles found himself wishing to see what he would look like if he smiled properly and without reserve. He touched his heels to Camaro’s sides and the stallion took off, his springy elastic stride eating up the ground until they were lost in the trees. 

Stiles sighed and then winced when Noah’s hand tightened. 

‘Oh my, my, my.’ Noah chuckled. ‘Do I need to start planning your dowry?’

‘Shut up.’ Stiles muttered, hunching his shoulders. ‘I can’t appreciate a handsome man now?’

‘Oh I’ve seen you appreciating handsome men.’ Noah’s smile was wide and knowing. ‘This is far more serious.’

Stiles grumbled, looking to Parrish for help only to find him smiling just as broadly. 

‘The Marquis is greatly admired for his looks.’ he said, winking at Stiles. ‘You certainly wouldn’t be the first to be enraptured.’

‘Wonderful.’ Stiles kicked at the ground. ‘I must have been ridiculously obvious in my affections for someone who’s only just met me to notice.’ 

‘It’s your face, Miezko.’ Noah came over and landed a kiss on the top of his head. ‘It gives you away every time.’

‘If it’s any consolation, you clearly made an impression.’ Parrish added. ‘I have never ever known Derek to be so talkative or so keen to assist.’ His eyes were twinkling. ‘And I say that as someone who knows him as well as it is possible to know him.’

‘You are good friends?’ Noah asked and Parrish nodded. 

‘I like him and I respect him.’ he replied. ‘The Hales have been more than kind to me and they have assisted me in that which I desire most. Derek is not an easy man, not after what he has been through. He carries the guilt of his family’s death as though he were the one who lit the torch. He is dour and gruff at the best of times, but he is also quick witted and far more learned than people realise. His knowledge of the Gevaudan is second to none and I trust him with my life. In fact, he has saved it on several occasions when we have encountered the Beast.’ 

‘Then so shall we.’ Noah said. ‘Now would you like to explain what just happened? Derek seemed to recognise the howl.’

Parrish smiled. 

‘Some secrets are not mine to tell.’ he replied. ‘But Derek has an unusual relationship with the forest and its beasts. He understands them in a way I do not profess to understand myself.’

‘Fair enough.’ Noah started moving towards the horses. ‘In that case, shall we depart and leave him to his communing with the woods?’

‘Yes.’ Parrish followed him, laughing. ‘I cannot wait to have you meet my Lydia. She is a true marvel.’ 

Stiles stood and watched the forest a moment. He closed his eyes briefly and reached out, allowing his magic to take his mind out of himself, seeking a suitable mind to ride. He found it, a single raven making her way through the trees, and gently latched on. He took control, soaring with her above the trees, his mind’s eye catching sight of the man and horse below him. Camaro moved swiftly, slowing only when the trees broke upon a slope. Derek pulled him up and Stiles saw a large promontory in front of them, upon which stood a massive grey wolf. It put him in mind of the dog from earlier that day and he realised that what he’d thought was a bitch was no doubt a she-wolf. 

This one was a male, broad through the shoulders with s thick ruff and an iron grey coat. It stared at Derek without fear and then looked up at him, meeting the raven’s eyes as she flew over him and just like that, the connection was broken. Stiles gasped, one hand to his temple. The pain of being so unceremoniously kicked out of the raven’s mind was fading quickly and he knew that whatever had done it, it was powerful. 

‘Stiles.’ Noah called and he shook it off, going to Roscoe and mounting up with his mind racing about who could be out there in the forest.

-

Derek felt the ripple of magic and shivered. He looked back to where the raven that had just swooped over him and Camaro was now flying back towards the forest. In front of him, the wolf growled softly. 

‘I know.’ he replied. ‘That’s why I came.’ He looked back at the wolf and smirked. ‘They seem to be capable and they have steady heartbeats. I would be happy to let them help.’ 

The wolf whined and then jumped down from the rocky outcrop. He padded over and Camaro dipped his head so the wolf could bump his nose against his muzzle. Derek chuckled and turned the stallion’s head in the direction the wolf indicated. 

‘Lead the way, uncle.’ he said and urged Camaro into a trot, following him into the trees. 

-  
The Martins lived in a small chateau that was charmingly constructed in the modern style. Lydia’s father had been a minor Comte who’d taken their family fortunes and invested wisely. His death a few years before hadn’t been any great loss however, as his travels in the name of work had kept him from home for long periods of time and Lydia had barely known him. Now she and her mother Natalie lived a quiet provincial life, largely so Lydia could do her work and study without interference. She was far more intelligent than Natalie and ran the estate herself so that Natalie could enjoy the more social aspects her comfortable life had given her. 

They were greeted in the courtyard by a footman and directed into the house. There, they were relieved of their hats, gloves and coats and led to an ante-chamber while their arrival was announced. Stiles grinned at the strategy. Parrish being their introduction was masterful and would allow him to visit Lydia in her own home without raising any suspicions at all. 

Another footman finally led them to a day room. It was dressed in pale blue and gilt and showed a distinctly feminine touch. Here they were greeted by two women, one a matron and the other a lovely young woman that Stiles immediately recognised from the miniature Lydia had sent him. 

‘Mademoiselle.’ He bowed and kissed the slender white hand she presented to him. ‘You are even lovelier than I thought you might be.’ 

‘Flatterer.’ Lydia laughed, looking delighted. She wore a gown of palest green, trimmed in delicate rose pink with her copper red hair coiled over one shoulder and accessorised with jade drop earrings that accentuated her white skin, the tone completely natural without the aid of powder. ‘And you are far taller than I expected. You’re positively gangling.’ She turned to her mother. ‘Maman, these are the Chevaliers Stilinski.’ 

‘Charmed.’ Natalie was an attractive woman, who no doubt had also been a great beauty in her youth. Her hair was a darker shade than her daughter’s, closer to fox-red than strawberry, and her skin was still fine with few lines. Where Lydia’s eyes were the green of spring leaves, Natalie’s were summer-sky blue and she had a charming smile, especially when her eyes lit on Noah, standing just behind him. 

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Lydia, who gave him a magnificently subtle eye roll before she turned to Parrish. 

‘Monsieur le Capitaine.’ Her smile was soft and Stiles could see how taken she was with him. ‘Thank you for delivering our guests.’ 

‘It was my pleasure, Mademoiselle.’ Parrish bowed and took her offered hand before stepping back, but not before Stiles’ keen observation picked up that she’d slid a small piece of paper into his hand. ‘I shall now take my leave.’ He bowed to Natalie and then Stiles and Noah. ‘Madame. Messieurs les Chevaliers.’

‘Thank you, Capitaine.’ Noah was playing along beautifully, but Stiles knew he’d seen the exchange as well. ‘And thank you again for your assistance.’ 

Lydia waited until he had left before inviting them to sit. She took her place next to her mother. 

‘May we offer you tea?’ Natalie asked and they both nodded. She rang a small silver bell that was on the table next to her and then smiled. ‘Lydia has been regaling me with tales of your exploits. It has been most entertaining.’ Her eyes were still on Noah and Stiles smirked, knowing that he’d be getting his own back once they were done. 

‘You are too kind, Madame.’ Noah replied, looking just as taken. ‘I feel as though we are already acquainted, what with our children’s regular correspondence keeping us abreast of everything that happens in Gevaudan.’ 

‘I feel the same.’ Natalie smiled. ‘I only hope that our little province has enough to keep you interested while you are here.’

‘The Beast will keep them busy, Maman.’ Lydia looked pointedly at the folio that Stiles had brought in with him. ‘I suppose you have already been investigating.’

‘We have.’ Stiles grinned at the way her nose wrinkled, amused that he had one over on her. Lydia, although she was in the immediate vicinity, did not have the freedom that he had as a man and she was no doubt going to make sure he kept her informed while he was there. ‘We have even met the Marquis Hale while out this very morning.’

‘Ah yes.’ Lydia’s eyes narrowed and for a moment she looked more vixen-like than her mother. ‘Monsieur Le Marquis is an interesting man. He’s been the most successful in his endeavours so far.’ This was said with a snide little glance at her mother and Natalie sighed. 

‘Ma chere, you know I only have your interests at heart.’ she replied with the put upon air of a parent with an errant child. ‘Monsieur Whittemore is doing his best.’ 

‘He is bourgeois and so dull he makes my teeth ache.’ Lydia retorted. ‘And his hunting skills leave a great deal to be desired. I cannot see why you even entertain his suit.’ 

‘Because he actually find you completely admirable.’ Natalie said. ‘You have scared away practically everyone else with your insistence on being intelligent. He actually thinks it’s a positive trait and that means he’s not going to be intimidated by you.’ 

‘He’s vacuous.’ Lydia snorted, ignoring Natalie’s huff. She got up and smoothed her skirts, then held out a hand to Stiles. ‘Come. I want to show you the library.’ 

‘But the tea!’ Natalie protested and Lydia glared at her. 

‘You and Monsieur can enjoy the tea.’ she declared. ‘I’m taking Stiles to look at my books.’ 

Stiles had no choice, Lydia’s hand locked around his wrist. He made a helpless gesture as she dragged him out the room and nearly fell over his own boots. For such a tiny creature, Lydia was like a draft horse in her ability to tow him along. 

‘Lydia.’ he whined. ‘Slow down.’

‘If she catches up, she’ll make us have polite conversation.’ Lydia muttered. ‘Now keep up, we have much to discuss.’

-

Derek slid from Camaro’s back, his nostrils flaring as he picked up the sickly corrupted scent that filled the air of the small glade. He crouched, tracing the outline of a pugmark left in the soft mud. It was as big as his entire hand and he snarled, his fangs dropping. 

‘She’s already gone.’ Cora’s voice came from the trees and she moved out of the shadows. She was dressed for hunting, her boots already mud splattered and her long dark hair tied in a knot at the back of her neck. Her slender fingers found purchase in the thick ruff at the back of Peter’s neck and their uncle leaned into her, making a deep rumbling sound. He spent almost all his time as a wolf now, had since the fire, and they had grown to understand him as clearly as if he were speaking aloud. 

Derek straightened up, spotting at the mark and cursing. Cora came closer, scenting him. 

‘They came to the house this morning.’ she said. ‘To see Laura.’ 

‘What did she tell them?’ Derek asked and she shrugged. 

‘I don’t know, I left when they came in.’ Cora’s smile revealed a hint of fang. She was almost as feral as Peter was now, not a trace of softness left in her unless she was looking at Isaac. ‘They smelled like gunpowder and magic.’

‘The younger one.’ Derek said. ‘Stiles. He’s not fully human.’

‘No.’ Cora looked at the sky through the leaves above her. ‘But then again, maybe that’s what we need.’ 

-

Stiles turned in a circle, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. 

‘Lydia.’ he breathed reverently. ‘It’s wonderful!’

‘I know.’ Lydia radiated smugness but he couldn’t really deny her the chance to gloat. He’d never seen anything like it. ‘Father was awfully indulgent.’ 

The room soared for three levels, each one lined with cedar wood cases that held volume after volume and were accessed by an incredibly intricate cast iron staircase. There must have been hundreds of books and all of them were about Lydia’s favourite subject. Stiles’ own studies of magic could never ever come close to the accumulation of lore she had at her fingertips. 

‘I think I should marry you.’ he said. ‘Then we could share.’ 

‘I don’t share.’ Lydia laughed. ‘But I will lend.’ She gestured to a rosewood table where there was a stack of volumes waiting. ‘I think these will help with your current matter. Once that is dealt with and the Beast dispatched, I’m sure you can convince your father to stay awhile longer and we can have some fine afternoons here.’ 

Stiles looked at the books she’d laid out and frowned. 

‘Black magic?’ he asked, glancing at her. Lydia pressed her lips together and nodded. 

‘You know my gifts.’ she replied. ‘I have screamed for them all. The Beast is not an animal, but something else altogether.’ 

‘So I’m starting to think.’ Stiles opened the volume on top and surveyed the pages. ‘I had an interesting moment with Laura Hale this morning. She told me this valley holds secrets and that she knows that so do I.’ 

‘Ah.’ Lydia’s smile turned conspiratorial. ‘Thoughts?’

‘Some. There was what I thought was a dog in their home.’ Stiles replied. ‘But now I believe it was a wolf.’ 

‘And what do you know of wolves?’ Lydia asked. 

‘That they live in packs and are very elusive.’ Stiles set the book back down. ‘One could even say, reserved. I scryed for Derek when he left us. There was another wolf, one far larger than the bitch from this morning.’ 

‘His name is Peter.’ Lydia told him, sitting down on a small chaise. ‘He hasn’t been seen since the fire and nobody apart from myself and the Hales know he’s still alive.’ 

‘How does a wolf come to have the name of a man?’ Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. 

‘The same way a man may be more than a man.’ Lydia replied. ‘You should know that well enough.’ 

‘You do like your riddles.’ Stiles grumbled. ‘A man who is also a wolf then?’

‘The Hales are special.’ Lydia said. ‘I’ve been studying the history of this region, trying to find any mention of something like this happening before. It would seem that they have been here since before written records began. Their chateau stood for three hundred years before it was burned to the ground. They have been Templars and scholars and the keepers of peace in this valley. Their deaths were a great loss. And you’ve read Ovid, Stiles. You know to which I refer.’ 

‘Do they know you know?’ Stiles sat next to her. 

‘It is something we do not speak of.’ Lydia smiled. ‘Just as we do not speak of what I am. As for you, if Laura made an overture, it is because she trusts you. Wolves can hear lies and smell what someone feels. It makes it very hard to deceive them.’

‘That’s good to know.’ Stiles said. ‘I’ll be sure to watch what I say.’ 

‘So you met Laura.’ Lydia raised one coppery brow at him. ‘And you have met Derek as well. There’s also Cora and the rest of the house.’ 

‘Are they all…’ Stiles trailed off, realisation hitting him in the face. ‘That’s how they survived? They were bitten by Laura?’

‘The bite of an alpha wolf cures many ills.’ Lydia replied. ‘The ones who died either were too far gone to help or rejected the bite. Did Laura tell you about Paige?’

‘Yes.’ Stiles nodded. ‘And what she meant to Derek.’

‘She rejected the bite.’ Lydia said, her mouth turning down. ‘Derek had to break her neck to end the agony. I was there, visiting Laura. It was the cruelest tragedy that the very first victim of the Beast was the one person that had given Derek hope again.’

‘Is there a pattern?’ Stiles asked. 

‘No.’ Lydia said, frustrated. ‘The Beast takes old and young, men and women. She has killed in the night and the day and the only thing that I can think of is that she is a manifestation of some evil magic that is beyond my scope. I predict death but I cannot prevent it. I’m hoping you can.’ 

‘If she’s too much for a pack of wolves, what hope do I have?’ Stiles asked and she fixed him with a stern look. 

‘You are renowned for being able to capture the wildest of animals.’ She laid a hand on his arm. ‘You are also known for being able to see things that others don’t. I’m hoping that if all of us use our collective skills, we can end this reign of terror.’ 

‘How do I approach the Hales though?’ Stiles met her eyes. ‘Laura simply told me that she trusts me to keep the valley’s secrets.’ 

‘And that was your way in.’ Lydia told him. ‘They will come to you, have no doubt. Laura is very good at making sure that what happened before will not happen again. Give them time to come to trust you the way I do and they will reveal themselves.’

‘I defer to your superior knowledge in this regard.’ Stiles grinned and then gave her a sidelong look. ‘Tell me more about Derek.’ 

Lydia burst into delighted laughter. 

‘I knew it!’ she crowed. ‘I knew the very second you met him, you’d be enamoured.’

‘You did not!’ Stiles protested, shifting in his seat. ‘Just because he’s Adonis made flesh doesn’t mean I’d be rendered completely…’ He huffed and stopped. ‘Yes, alright I am completely enraptured and I’ve only just met him. He’s possibly the surliest man I’ve ever met but he’s also just so…’ He made a vague gesture and Lydia sniggered in a most unladylike way. 

‘He’s quite something.’ she said. ‘And I knew you’d like him because you are terribly drawn to people who are both bad tempered and brilliant and the physical embodiment of beauty.’ She tossed her head and smiled. ‘That’s why you adore me.’ 

‘Except I only wanted to woo you in theory.’ Stiles muttered. ‘He makes me want to commit many acts upon his person in many positions.’

‘He is still in mourning.’ Lydia leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘Be gentle with him.’

‘I am so glad I am finally here.’ Stiles put an arm around her shoulders. ‘And I must say, your young soldier is very handsome and seems to be a fine person to boot. I’m almost jealous.’ 

‘Jordan is wonderful.’ Lydia agreed. ‘It’s a pity we must hide things. Laura is very accommodating but I tire of not having him by my side. Maman needs to be distracted long enough for me to affect an engagement.’

‘Is that why we left her with my father?’ Stiles snickered. ‘I think it may be love at first sight.’ 

‘Good.’ Lydia said. ‘I know he loved your mother to distraction but it is a long time to be alone and my father was hardly a model husband.’

‘You are a conniving little minx.’ Stiles muttered fondly into her hair. ‘What was in the note that you gave Parrish?’

‘An invitation.’ Lydia smiled. ‘Speaking of which, you and Noah are invited to dinner this evening. Maman arranged it so that Monsieur Whittemore can have another bite at my apple.’ Her laugh turned dirty. ‘Little does he know my apple has already been thoroughly bitten by a certain Capitaine of the garrison.’ 

‘Lydia!’ Stiles was mildly scandalised. 

‘Please.’ Lydia snorted. ‘You really believe that I would go to my marriage bed a virgin? That’s like ordering a dress and never having a fitting for it.’

‘I suppose.’ Stiles eyed her speculatively. ‘Will any of the Hales be at this dinner?’

‘I have extended an invitation.’ Lydia replied. ‘But don’t get your hopes up. They never come.’ 

‘I live in hope.’ Stiles disentangled himself from her and stood up. ‘Now show me what you’ve found and I’ll show my drawings from this morning.’ 

-

Derek and Cora rode into the courtyard. They had left Peter behind in the woods. He hated going anywhere near the remains of the house and even the stables made him supremely uncomfortable. Boyd was in the yard, enjoying the sunshine and polishing up a bridle. He squinted at them and then grinned and Derek was tempted to turn tail and flee. 

‘What?’ he asked, dismounting and leading Camaro towards the stable. 

‘Nothing.’ Boyd replied, still grinning. 

Derek snorted and went inside. He tied Camaro up and started to untack him. Cora did the same, leading her rangy bay gelding into the stall next to him. Sauvage stuck his head over the partition and nibbled on Camaro’s shoulder while they both got rubbed down with handfuls of straw. Boyd would have happily done it, but he and Cora had always loved tending their horses and it was soothing. When they were finished and the horses were tied up with a mangerful of hay to occupy them, they went back outside to find Erica now sitting with Boyd and cutting up apples, handing over the occasional slice. 

‘Are you going to make tarte tatin?’ Cora beamed at her and Erica smiled. 

‘Yes.’ Her dark eyes turned on Derek. ‘But not for him.’ 

‘What? Why not?’ Derek was not above pouting. Erica’s tarte tatin was sublime and the whole reason he put up with being pressed into picking apples. 

‘Because you’re going to the Martins for dinner.’ she told him, chuckling when he growled. ‘Don’t look at me, it was Laura’s idea.’

‘What!’ Derek bellowed and looked at the doors to their living quarters where Laura was now standing watching them, an infuriating grin on her face. ‘I am most certainly not!’

‘You will go and you’ll be polite and not eat anyone.’ she instructed, her eyes flashing red. 

‘I hate going to dinner.’ Derek muttered. ‘I have to be all...human.’ He swung around and glared at the others behind him and their cackles stopped, all of them turning their eyes up innocently to the sky. 

‘You can be human for one night, Derek.’ Laura was stern. ‘I need you to report back on everything they say about the Beast.’ 

‘Why don’t you go then?’ Derek stomped across the yard. ‘You turn out better than I do.’ 

‘I have my reasons.’ Laura said as he ascended the stairs. ‘Besides, if you’re going to be working with the Stilinskis, I think it would be wise for you all to start presenting a united front. Also the Argents will be wild because you’re there and I’m not.’ 

‘Fuck.’ Derek nearly took the door off its hinges in his annoyance. ‘Fine, but I’m not wearing slippers!’

He slammed the door behind him, leaving Laura outside. She looked at her betas and they all shrugged and then went back to cackling at her. 

-

‘Perhaps another shapeshifter?’ Stiles suggested and Lydia made a thoughtful noise and took the book from him, studying the engravings. 

‘Shapeshifters are usually born or bitten though.’ she replied. ‘The Hales’ lineage stretches back centuries. As far as I know there are no others here.’ 

‘No-one who has recently moved to town?’ Stiles asked and she demurred. ‘Then I’m at a loss. There seems to be nothing here that can help us.’ He sighed and then frowned. ‘How long have we been at this?’

‘I honestly have no idea.’ Lydia said. ‘I suppose we can come back to this tomorrow.’

They took a slow walk back to the day room and found Noah in the middle of a story about mermaids in the Baltic. He and Natalie were no longer alone either. There were another three women with them. One was of an age with Natalie, her hair a deep auburn and her gown a stern grey trimmed in black satin ribbon and set off by dark agate jewelry. She was beautiful in a very masculine way with nothing soft about her. The second was the same age as Lydia and a complete contrast. Her hair was barely tamed deep brown curls and her gown a lovely forest green taffeta. Her skin glowed with the look of one who spent a great deal of time outdoors, with delightfully pink cheeks and deep dimples when she smiled and Stiles surmised that this was Madame and Mademoiselle Les Vicomtesses Argent. 

‘Allison.’ Lydia seemed delighted to see her and there was a few moments of kisses and exclamations over each other’s gowns. ‘Stiles, this is my great friend Allison Argent. Allison, this is the younger fo the Chevaliers Stilinski, Stiles.’

‘That is an unusual name.’ Allison was charming and her smile utterly contagious. 

‘My given name is a mouthful.’ Stiles laughed, kissing her offered hand. He nodded at Noah, who he noted had moved to sit on the same chaise as Natalie. ‘Blame my parents.’ 

‘My mother, La Vicomtesse.’ Allison introduced the auburn-haired woman. ‘And my aunt, Mademoiselle Katherine.’ 

Stiles schooled his expression into polite interest as he took the measure of the woman that Derek had accused of his family’s murder. She was lovely, he had to admit, with golden brown hair and light hazel eyes that raked over him with interest. Her gown was a deep bronze silk with a bodice of rich brown velvet and it made her tawny colouring all the richer, and even though her chin was a little too pointed and her mouth a touch too cruel he could definitely see why she’d proven such a distraction. The only thing that marred the whole effect was how clearly uncomfortable she was in her finery, almost as if playing dress up.

‘You did not say the young Chevalier was so handsome.’ she all but purred and Stiles had to physically restrain himself from flinching at the undisguised interest in her eyes. Normally the attention of such an attractive woman would have been very welcomed but when he let a little of his magic out to surround her, her aura was repugnant. 

‘Many seem not to agree.’ he said, trying for humour to hide his disgust. He could already see Noah’s expression behind her and it was telling him to give nothing away. 

‘Hmmm.’ Kate extended a hand to him. ‘Will you be at dinner this evening?’

‘He will.’ Lydia moved and deftly intercepted her, taking Stiles’ arm. ‘Stiles is akin to a brother to me. I would not let him miss it.’ 

There was a subtle warning in her words and Stiles could see Kate mentally stepping back. 

‘Then dinner shall be interesting indeed. I must insist that we hear more of your wonderful stories.’ Victoire said to Noah. She had not spoken until that moment and Stiles found her voice very attractive. It was deep and smoky and he wondered just who the authority was in the Argent household because she spoke like a general, her air of perfect confidence the same as his father's. 

‘As you wish, Madame.’ Noah inclined his head and then stood up. ‘But for now, I fear we must take out leave. If we are to be presentable, then we will require some time to make ourselves so.’ 

‘Of course.’ Natalie replied. ‘Lydia?’

‘I’ll see them out.’ Lydia replied, sweeping Stiles along with her again, Noah in their wake. She waited until they were out of earshot before hissing like a snake. ‘I despise that woman.’ 

‘Katherine?’ Noah asked and Lydia nodded. 

‘She’s positively odious.’ She tossed her head angrily. ‘Unfortunately Allison idolises her and I cannot say a word against her.’ 

At the door, she bid them goodbye and kissed Stiles’ cheek. 

‘Make sure you’re dressed well this evening.’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I want to show off my clever friend and maybe get you a chance with a certain Marquis.’ 

‘Yes Lydia.’ Stiles replied. ‘I shall make sure I’m appropriately dressed.’ 

‘Oh lord.’ Noah muttered and dragged him out by his collar. ‘This is going to be a disaster.’

-

‘Out.’ Laura demanded, hands on her hips. Behind her, the massive copper tub steamed threateningly and Derek retreated even further under the bed, whining pathetically. 

‘You could always just lift it up and drag him out.’ Cora remarked from where she was leaning in the doorway. ‘You know how much he hates baths.’

‘Derek!’ Laura stamped her foot. ‘As your alpha, I am telling you to get your mangy backside out and in the damn copper.’ 

Derek growled, flattening his ears against his head. Cora was right, he’d hated baths ever since he was a cub and used to escape from his nanny to run naked through the chateau corridors until he was caught and unceremoniously dumped in head first. 

‘I found them.’ Erica announced, coming in with an armful of clothing. ‘And Boyd is busy polishing his boots. Also Isaac is back and he said that the Argents will be at dinner tonight as well.’ 

‘Wonderful.’ Laura snorted when Derek started snarling again. ‘Now we’ll never get him out.’

‘Oh I think we will.’ Erica was now peering at him under the bed, her eyes flashing gold. ‘He also said that the Stilinskis will be attending.’ 

Derek stopped snarling, his ears perking up. He whined in question and she giggled and nodded, her curls in her upside down face. 

‘Yes, he will definitely be there. You don’t want to miss out on showing him how handsome you are when you actually make an effort do you?’ Erica was now using her wheedling voice and Derek let out a deep wolfy sigh and then crawled out from under the bed. 

‘Ridiculous.’ Cora snorted and left. 

‘Get in.’ Laura pointed at the bath and Derek gave her a filthy look and then jumped into the tub with maximum splash, completely drenching both her and Erica. He dunked himself under the water, shifting and coming up grinning as he listened to them storming down the corridor, cursing his name. He could subject himself to the horror that was bathing if it meant he’d have a chance to look into those mesmerising eyes that were the colour of good brandy and get a whiff of that tantalising scent, shocky around the edges with magic. 

He would even use soap.


	4. La Soiree

The evening sky was a multitude of golds and blues when Stiles and Noah set out from the inn, accompanied by Scott. He’d volunteered to accompany them, even though they knew the way and Stiles had an inkling it had something to do with the very lovely Mademoiselle Argent being in attendance. It had become clear that he was harbouring a rather serious affection for her during a conversation that afternoon when Stiles had gone to ask him for hot water for a bath. Now he was chattering away about all the good that the Argents had done the region and Stiles caught Noah’s eye. Noah was smiling indulgently, hsi paternal streak coming out. Scott’s father had been a soldier and was long gone from home and he had taken to listening to Noah with bated breath, something Stiles knew his father enjoyed greatly.

The Martin chateau was lit up with torches, people coming in and alighting at the front door. When they arrived,, Stiles handed over the reins to Scott and he trotted off with Zolna and Roscoe in tow, leaving them to enter the house and make themselves known to the footman attending. He nodded solemnly and went to announce them, giving Stiles a minute to make sure he was looking his best. His frock coat was deep blue velvet, trimmed in dull gold and with a waistcoat of bronze silk underneath. He’d declined to wear the traditional slippers, opting for boots and he smiled at the thought of how scandalous he might seem with his clipped hair and unseemly footwear. Noah was dressed similarly, his coat a deep iron grey velvet that faded to black in certain lights. He’d not worn a single bright colour since Claudia’s return to the snow but it suited his serious demeanour and light colouring.

‘Messieurs Les Chevaliers.’ The footman had returned. ‘This way, please.’

They followed him along to a different room than the one they had been in that afternoon. There was the sound of a harpsichord playing and the murmur of voices, which died back a little as they were brought into the room and announced to the gathered crowd. It wasn’t a particularly large one and Stiles’ eyes swept over them as he assessed their fellow guests in the same way that Noah had tight him to assess an opponent.

The Argents were there with Katherine, Victoire and Allison sitting alongside a tall middle aged man with Long ash blond hair tied back and a pair of ice blue eyes. He was straight-backed and proud looking and Stiles identified him as Christophe, the current Vicomte D’Argent. There was another pair of men, both young and handsome. Once was light haired and blue eyed, the other dark of hair and complexion in a way that suggested the colonies. He had a friendly inquisitive smile and Stiles decided he’d definitely be someone to talk to later, a stark contrast to his companion who looked particularly bored with everything around him and had an arrogant curl to his pretty mouth. Both of them were very fashionably attired in light frock coats of pale blue and embroidered ivory, respectively.

Another young man, his scarlet coat too showy and his complexion too delicate, was fussing over Allison, making her sigh at his antics. She looked particularly lovely in delicately patterned leaf green, the vibrant colour making her dark eyes sparkle. The young man was seemingly trying to charm her and when her eyes met Stiles, her dimples made a brief appearance as she gave him a look that was obviously a cry for help.

Stiles glanced over at where Lydia was busy playing, for it was her at the harpsichord, and she gave him the most scandalous wink before affecting a look of virtuous concentration.

The final group was made up of Natalie, who came over to them and immediately pressing them both to come forward for introductions. The taller hawk faced man and the pale mousy woman with him were introduced as Monsieur and Madame Whittemore, parents to the arrogant young man in pale blue who turned out to be Jackson Whittemore. Stiles looked Lydia’s prospective paramour with a smirk. She’d eat him for breakfast and run rings around him in an argument. It was no wonder she wasn’t interested. His friend was one Daniel Mahealani, newly arrived from the Americas and with a claim to being some kind of obscure royalty.

The last was an unusual pair, Monsieur Deaton and his widowed sister Madame Morell. Melissa and Laura had both mentioned the doctor and Stiles regarded him with open curiosity. Both Deaton and his sister were from Haiti, their lilting accents almost musical to Stiles’ ear. Their clothing was a little plainer but it was clear they were held in regard to be invited to a soiree like this.

‘Messieurs.’ Deaton inclined his head when they were introduced. ‘I am very pleased to meet you. I am looking forward to perhaps having a moment of your time to discuss the predicament that currently afflicts this village.’

‘Predicament.’ Whittemore snorted. ‘My good Doctor, this is a plague!’

‘Indeed.’ Deaton’s face remained perfectly neutral. ‘I am well aware of that Monsieur. I have treated many of the victims of the Beast, alongside my dear sister and Madame Hale.’

Stiles listened to the ensuing debate with half an ear and then caught Allison’s eye again. This time her plea for help was more blatant and he smiled and excused himself, leaving Noah to get involved while he crossed the room.

‘Madame.’ He greeted Victoire first and then turned to the man next to her. ‘Monsieur le Vicomte.’

Christophe inclined his head, his shrewd eyes giving Stiles a penetrating look.

‘Monsieur le Chevalier.’ he relied and his voice was deceptively gentle. ‘My wife and my daughter have mentioned you to me. I look forward to hunting with you.’

‘Hunting?’ Stiles asked and Christophe nodded.

‘We have decided this evening that it would be a good time to try and corner the Beast, what with it having attacked so recently.’ he explained. ‘And your arrival is most timely. I would be delighted if you and your father could join us.’

‘Of course.’ Stiles bowed and turned to Allison, who beamed at him and offered her hand.

‘Mademoiselle.’ he said, making a show of greeting her and seeing a flash of jealousy in the eyes of her suitor, still hovering behind her. ‘May I say that you are a vision this evening.’

‘You may.’ Allison indicated the chair next to her. ‘Won’t you sit.’

‘Thank you.’ Stiles took the offered seat. He eyed the young man behind them. ‘Monsieur? I do not know you.’

‘This is Mathieu D’Aehler.’ Allison said. ‘He is an artist.’ There was an undercurrent of humour in her voice when she said the word. ‘Maman has engaged him to paint my portrait.’

‘Monsieur.’ Mathieu’s voice was flat with disapproval, his distaste clear when he looked Stiles up and down. ‘You are wearing boots.’

‘I’m a hunter, not a creature of comfort or fashion.’ Stiles gave him an easy grin. Mathieu was powdered and his light brown hair was crimped and curled and the barb hit home easily. He sniffed disdainfully and went back to making imploring eyes at Allison. Stiles resisted the urge to snigger, the re-entry of the footman thankfully distracting him.

‘Monsieur le Marquis Hale.’ he announced and then stepped aside to reveal a tall figure that had Stiles’ chuckles dying in his throat. The rest of the room was similarly affected, falling silent at the sight of the new arrival.

‘Oh my.’ Allison said next to him. ‘I can’t believe he’s here.’ She elbowed Stiles as subtly as possible. ‘He never comes to Lydia’s soirees.’

Stiles was still, utterly bewitched. The Marquis had been handsome enough in his rough clothing, his hair a mess and his whiskers longer than what was seemly. Now he was magnificent, striding into the room and looking like he’d stepped from the pages of one of those scandalous romantic novels that Stiles and Lydia both secretly enjoyed. His frock coat was the palest jade velvet trimmed in silver embroidery with a simple white waistcoat. His black hair, too short for a proper queue, was swept back from his now clean shaven face and gave him a stark beauty that made everyone else in the room pale into insignificance, Lydia and Allison included.  
He stopped and returned the stares directed at him, his chin lifted defiantly, and Stiles could feel himself falling head over heels in the space of a single breath. It wasn’t just Derek’s bearing, but also the hint of vulnerability that he carried underneath it. Stiles knew that everyone else couldn’t spot his uncertainty, but he was very good at observing what others did not wish him to see and it was there in Derek’s light eyes.

Stiles couldn’t help himself. He was on his feet and moving to Derek before he even fully realised what he was doing. Behind him the conversation picked up tenfold as the others hissed and whispered about Derek and Lydia resumed playing.

‘Monsieur, you certainly know how to make an entrance.’ He beamed at him and was delighted to see the very tips of Derek’s ears go pink. ‘I had not expected to see you this evening.’

‘My sister made me come.’ Derek was a little gruff, his chin dropping as he looked away in a manner that would have been declared flirtatious on a woman. He glanced back at Stiles, and Stiles had to stop himself from swooning at his thick lashes.

‘Well, I for one am extremely grateful for your company.’ Stiles smiled at him and was pleased when the corners of Derek’s mouth quirked up. He dropped his voice and leaned in closer. ‘I was afraid I might be bored.’

‘You seemed to be managing.’ Derek’s dry delivery was pitch perfect. He nodded at Allison and Stiles made a dismissive noise.

‘Mademoiselle Argent is lovely, but not really someone that catches my attention.’ he replied and was surprised to see the pink deepen.

‘Then who is?’ Derek asked, blinking slowly like a cat. ‘Perhaps someone else?’

‘Assuredly someone else.’ Stiles replied and took his elbow. ‘Now, come outside onto the terrace and talk to me about the Beast.’

‘Stiles.’ Lydia reprimanded from the harpsichord. ‘Stop stealing my guests.’

‘Too late.’ Stiles chuckled and steered Derek out the door, listening gleefully to the outraged noises behind him. Once on the terrace, he led Derek to the furthest point, well out of earshot of the rest of the room and grinned at him. Now he knew what Derek was, it was easy to spot the telltale signs. Derek’s eyebrows were remarkably thick, almost meeting in the middle. Stiles also managed to get a quick look at his hands, noting the ring and middle fingers to be of the same length. He looked back up to perplexed eyes and a pleased shiver went down his spine. Compelling eyes were also in attendance as were the signs of hirsuteness. He wanted dearly to take Derek’s hand and run his thumb over the fine dark hairs just visible under Derek’s cuff but he restrained himself.

‘What are you doing?’ Derek asked and Stiles grinned at him.

‘Observing.’ he replied with a smirk. ‘I find you most interesting, Monsieur le Marquis.’

‘Stop calling me that.’ Derek grumbled. ‘It’s bad enough I’m here. Especially with _them_.’ He nodded at the window, through which Stiles could just see the Argents. Katherine was glaring at them, looking furious.

‘I can see there’s little love lost there.’ Stiles moved them again, so they were not easily seen from the window. ‘Why did you come? I would have expected Laura.’

‘She dislikes these events almost as much as I do.’ Derek replied, looking out over the gardens behind the house. ‘I was nominated to come in her stead.’

‘Lucky me.’ Stiles grinned. ‘Did you have any success with your hunt this afternoon?’

‘Not really.’ Derek was now watching him intently. ‘Did you?’

‘Lydia was a most attentive hostess.’ Stiles replied. ‘She showed me her library.’

‘I am amazed you left it.’ Derek raised an eyebrow at him, his nostrils flaring slightly. Stiles pondered whether he could smell the books on him and what else he might smell like.

‘It was difficult.’ he said. ‘I am definitely planning a repeat visit. Do you enjoy reading?’

The question seemed to catch Derek completely off guard and he folded his arms, looking defensive.

‘I do.’ he finally replied. ‘It was one of the few things that could keep me entertained when it was winter and I was a child.’ He stumbled a little over the last word.

‘Do you still read?’ Stiles asked. ‘I have some volumes you may find interesting. Of course most of them are devoted to natural history…’

‘Yes.’ Derek’s eyes lit up. ‘I find it fascinating. It’s why I spend most of my time out there.’ He glanced at the trees beyond the gardens. ‘I’m not very much good at being with people.’

‘Neither am I, but for completely different reasons I’m sure.’ Stiles laughed. ‘Most find me too talkative and too easily distracted.’

‘I don’t.’ Derek said quickly and then looked horrified at having given himself away. ‘I mean, at least your conversation is interesting, unlike most of the people in there.’

‘Even Lydia?’ Stiles asked and Derek snorted loudly through his nose.

‘Lydia is completely different.’ he stated. ‘I can see why you are friends.’

‘She is like a sister to me.’ Stiles said. ‘I adore her, but she is far better suited to the young Capitaine.’

‘Jordan is a good man.’ Derek nodded. ‘He is also strong enough to not be intimidated by her.’

‘What about you?’ Stiles pressed, hoping to get Derek’s ears to turn pink again. ‘Do you appreciate someone who is not intimidated by you?’

‘Depends.’ This time, Derek looked at him directly, his eyes piercing. ‘There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance.’

‘I know.’ Stiles smiled broadly. He was about to suggest that they explore that a little further when Noah appeared on the terrace, smiling in a way that told Stiles he knew exactly what he was up to. Stiles had told him all about his conversation with Lydia and Noah had expressed little surprise when confronted with the Hales’ less than human nature. After all, he’d married a snow maiden.

‘Boys.’ He gave them both a pointed look. ‘Dinner is ready.’

-

‘Mmmm.’ Laura licked the last of the cream off her spoon and looked sadly at her empty bowl. ‘No more?’

‘I made three.’ Erica pointed out. ‘It’s not my fault you have an alpha’s appetite.’

Laura made a show of baring her teeth at her but the effect it had as poorly lacking. Her betas had long since given up being scared of her, if they ever had been.

The room was warm and the glow of the fire was just enough to see by. They had no need for lamps, their wolf sight making it easy to navigate in the dark. Only her, Boyd and Erica were at the table. Isaac and Cora were out, having left after dinner to shut up the animals. Peter was no doubt prowling the woods. He tended to sleep in the family’s maison du chasse that Derek had commandeered for himself, curling up in front of the fire like an old hunting hound.

Erica moved to clear the empty plates and dishes and Boyd went to help her. The pack all ate together, convention be damned, and Laura sat back in her seat, her belly full, and thought about how things were progressing at the Martin chateau. Derek had looked so devastatingly handsome when he’d left, the image of their father but for his hair. She had no doubt he’d be able to turn the head of the little Spark that had come to visit.

-

‘There.’ Lydia hissed and shoved him as discreetly as she could in the direction of the seat next to hers. Stiles gave her an arch look, ignored her completely and deftly managed to steal the seat next to Derek. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from sniggering at the clear annoyance on Kate’s face. She’d been angling to sit next to him, obviously in an attempt to rile him up, but now she was left standing and looking very put out by Stiles’ overt flouting of social convention in his refusal of such a desired seat. On his other side, Marin looked innocently at the ceiling but Derek knew she was laughing on the inside. Both her and Alain were very good at maintaining an almost sphinx-like calm but he’d known them since he was a cub and they could be the very spirit of mischief if they chose.

Stiles sat down pointedly glaring at Kate. Derek hated to admit it, but he was really starting to like him.

Dinner was a spectacle. The Martins had the money to be extravagant and it showed in the food and wines. The Hales had had a truly magnificent cellar as well, and Derek had been brought up to appreciate fine wine and good food so he did not shy away from enjoying it. The Martins had a veritable army of servants at table, moving to take dishes to those who requested them. Natalie had served for the first course a fine soup of calf’s head and wine, stewed eels, late autumn vegetables and roasted pheasant and an assortment of pates and smaller sweet pastries stuffed with almonds.

‘So.’ Stiles was busy helping himself to everything he could reach. ‘We did not quite get to discuss our mutual prey.’

‘No.’ Derek noticed that Kate had been stuck sitting between Jackson’s mother and the deplorable Monsieur D’Aehler, who was very pointedly ignoring her in favour of talking to Allison even though he had to lean past Madame Whittemore to do so, and smirked into his wine.

‘We should though.’ Noah was next to Natalie and one seat up on the opposite side. ‘Monsieur le Vicomte has invited us to hunt tomorrow.’

Derek bristled at that. He could not stop the Argents hunting on their own land, but their mercenaries had a habit of straying. He’d had to chase several of them off already that past week. He breathed in deeply to calm himself, catching Stiles’ shocky bright scent and felt himself soothed by it.

‘Yes.’ Chris was in the middle of pouring wine for Allison. ‘We shall meet at dawn at the south border of the estate.’ His ice blue eyes flicked to Derek. ‘The invitation is also to you, Marquis. We could use your expertise.’ It was said a little stiffly, but Derek had never had reason to doubt his sincerity. Out of all the Argents, Chris and Allison were the only ones he could now bear.

‘Will you be hunting?’ he asked Stiles instead of replying to Chris and Stiles made a startled noise and then swallowed his mouthful of wine hastily before it could choke him. He looked to his father, who smiled and nodded.

We shall be there.’ he replied and only then did Derek turn to Chris.

‘In that case, I will be there as well.’ He could feel Kate’s eyes on him, doing her best to burn holes in the side of his face as surely as she had burned his home to the ground. He knew she still lusted after him, could smell the reek on her every time they were in each other’s company, which thankfully was very seldom. He hated her and everything about her but it would be worth subjecting himself to her to be there for the hunt. The Argents were renowned for hunting wolves and the fact that Derek was never there meant he couldn’t really save any that they tracked down. Being invited ensured he would be able to make certain there wasn’t a single wolf in the vicinity come the hunt.

The fact that Stiles would be there would simply be icing on his patissiere.

‘A hunt!’ Lydia beamed at Natalie. ‘Maman, may I go?’

‘Oh Lydia.’ Natalie looked torn between telling Lydia she couldn’t and trying to charm Noah. ‘I don’t know if that will be acceptable.’

‘Please.’ This was from Allison. ‘I’ll be going.’

‘You allow that, Argent?’ Whittemore asked and Chris nodded.

‘Allison is a fine hunter.’ he replied.

‘As am I.’ Jackson had been rather quiet but now he was preening for Lydia’s benefit. ‘I think it sounds a marvellous idea.’

‘Well then, if it’s become an outing.’ Kate’s words were sweetly uttered but Derek could smell that she was livid. ‘I would be more than happy to chaperone the young ladies.’

‘Very well then.’ Natalie said and Lydia and Allison gave each other delighted smiles.

‘It will be interesting to see what you make of it.’ Chris said to Noah. ‘It has eluded all of us.’

‘So I have heard.’ Noah replied. ‘Derek was kind enough to tell us all he knows this morning and Stiles made some interesting observations.’

‘He did?’ Whittemore looked curious. ‘What were they?’

‘Perhaps you should ask me directly.’ Stiles said and Derek found himself smirking again at the affront on Whittemore’s face. ‘I may look young, but I assure you I am more than capable of describing my own theories.’

‘How could you possibly have any theories?’ Jackson snorted from his side of the table. ‘You only arrived yesterday.’

‘I saw the last victim this morning.’ Stiles replied. ‘There is much to be gained by studying what remains and correlating it to what is known.’

‘The scientific method?’ Jackson scoffed. ‘That cannot substitute for experience and expertise.’

‘Well, that remains to be seen.’ Lydia said pertly, her green eyes narrowed. She smelled annoyed and Derek found himself exchanging amused glances with Stiles. ‘I notice that for all your so-called experience and expertise you are still empty-handed while Stiles and Noah are both in the service of Le Roi and are celebrated for their many successful captures.’

Jackson shut his mouth and then looked sulky.

‘Do you truly think science will out the Beast?’ Deaton asked, his dark eyes twinkling. ‘What if it is not of this world?’

There was a series of groans around the table. Derek knew that Deaton liked to play the provocateur. His knowledge of the supernatural made him a valuable ally and he was in agreement with Derek and Laura that the Beast was not a normal animal. Stiles’s statement the day before about the Beast being a cat had been unexpected but Derek knew it was no worse than the persistent belief that the Beast was an overly large wolf. And he had to admit that it did smell oddly cat-like under the stink of corruption.

‘There has been no evidence of that yet.’ Stiles replied and Derek heard his heart stutter with the lie. That meant that Stiles was clearly aware of the supernatural. Another thought occurred to him then and he tilted his head, looking at Stiles with new eyes. Stiles seemed to pick up on something, his mouth curling into a smile even as he kept all his attention on Jackson.

‘The Beast is not a wolf.’ he declared. ‘It’s nothing that we have ever encountered in my opinion.’

‘So you agree with the doctor?’ Chris was also smiling but it did not reach his eyes.

‘Not necessarily.’ Stiles replied. ‘There are many things that can deceive us, make us think the opposite of what is the truth. The Beast could be one of three things: a previously undescribed animal, something beyond our knowledge or someone who is trying to make us think that the Beast is an animal.’  
That had everyone staring at him, startled into silence.

‘A person?’ Whittemore spluttered. ‘Impossible!’

Derek was impressed. Stiles’ heartbeat was perfectly steady and his brown eyes were fiery.

‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘Why not consider the possibility?’

‘Because for someone to be doing this is evil beyond comprehension.’ Natalie looked appalled. ‘What possible reason could they have for doing such a terrible thing?’

‘A very good question. I would not think it unfounded to suggest that maybe the two suggestions were intertwined.’ Stiles replied and this time when he glanced at Derek, there was something else in his dark eyes. It glowed and drew him in and he was suddenly aware that the young man sitting next to him might very well be as dangerous as he was. His contemplation was broken by the sound of Kate’s laughter, bright and mocking.

‘Oh Lydia.’ She was smiling but it wasn’t a pleasant smile by any means. ‘I thought the Chevaliers were supposed to men of logic. Instead you have this whelp sitting and announcing at the dinner table that he believes in the powers of darkness and that there’s monsters under the bed. Next, he’ll be declaring that one of us is the Beast and we are in league with the Devil, murdering the good people of this valley for whatever nefarious purpose he might have us believe.’

Now that was something Derek had not considered. He dug his claws into his hands under the table, wanting to growl and leap across to rip out her throat with his teeth for mocking Stiles but he didn’t need to.

‘Madame.’ Stiles was cutting. ‘From what I hear, this wouldn’t not be the first time that statement could be made.’

Derek knew Kate had set the fire as surely as he knew his own name or the pathways that ran through his woods. Hearing the same certainty in Stiles’ voice made him inhale sharply. He noticed that Noah was watching him carefully, shaking his head ever so slightly, so Derek kept his mouth shut.

‘How dare you!’ Kate snapped, her composure in serious danger of slipping. ‘What are you accusing me of?’

‘Nothing.’ Stiles gave her a sharp smile. ‘But it is interesting that you immediately took it as such.’

Kate went white, throwing her napkin to the table and slamming her hand on it as she stood.

‘I will not sit here to be insulted!’ she shouted and stormed from the table, leaving the rest of them gaping at her abrupt exit.

All except the Stilinskis, Derek noted.

‘Well.’ Stiles sat back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself. ‘I had no idea some people were so sensitive.’

‘Stiles.’ Lydia chided, patting a pale faced Natalie on the hand. ‘You really should watch your tongue.’ She simpered at Chris and Victoire. ‘I do apologise.’

‘No need.’ Chris replied, looking completely unfazed. ‘Kate is always the sort to act first and think afterwards. She’ll soon realise how ridiculous that all sounded.’ His eyes came to rest on Stiles. ‘However, Chevalier, I’m sure not everyone here appreciates the insinuation that one of us is responsible.’

‘Of course.’ Stiles half rose and made a mocking little bow. ‘Unfortunately, I was not raised at Court and forget my manners. I speak too plainly.’

‘Do not judge yourself too harshly.’ Chris replied. ‘It is a trait that at least I find refreshing.’ He stood and bowed to Natalie and Lydia. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to find my sister and soothe her ruffled feathers before she does something stupid. For all her bluster, she truly does fear the monsters in the woods and it makes her reckless.’

He left and the tangy scent of astonishment leaked into Stiles’ scent.

‘He knows.’ he murmured and Derek gently kicked his foot to get his attention. When Stiles looked at him, he gave him a look willing him to not say anymore. To his credit, Stiles shut his mouth and went back to eating and the rest of dinner passed with no further incident.

The mood having been sufficiently destroyed, things ended fairly swiftly. The Whittemores and the remaining Argents left together, Allison looking more than a little hurt by what had transpired. Natalie did her best to play things off but she looked particularly put out afterwards and turned to the Stilinskis, her eyes sparkling angrily.

‘Would you like to give me an explanation?’ She looked between Noah and Stiles, who both grinned and looked sheepish.

‘Forgive us, Madame.’ Noah said. ‘But we had to see what the reaction would be. This is an avenue of investigation that we are pursuing.’

Derek heard him tell the truth and gave Stiles a questioning look.

‘It’s true.’ he said. ‘I wanted to get a reaction from everyone here tonight. It was extremely helpful.’

‘You might have told me what you were doing.’ Lydia sniffed. ‘I would have helped.’

‘I fear that the subterfuge was necessary.’ Stiles kissed her knuckles. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

‘Very well.’ Lydia declared. ‘You will still be going to the hunt?’

‘Yes.’ Noah nodded. ‘I think we need to see the Argents in action as it were.’

‘I’m sorry for upsetting Allison.’ Stiles gave Lydia a shrug. ‘But her shock at my suggestions implies that she is completely innocent of whatever is happening. Kate, on the other hand, was on the defensive almost before I finished speaking. Chris, while he seems to know something, was not quick in coming to her aid so I think that whatever is happening in that family, he wants no part of it.’

‘You think that they could be responsible?’ Lydia was frowning. ‘How?’

‘That is what we want to find out.’ Noah replied and then bowed to Natalie. ‘Once again Madame, I apologise for the disruption.’

‘No, it’s quite alright.’ Natalie was now looking thoughtful, her face fixed in the same expression of contemplation that Lydia got. ‘Do you really think that the Argents could be involved?’

‘I think something is not right with the whole situation.’ Stiles replied. ‘And with what Lydia told me and what I have learned from Laura Hale.’ Here he glanced at Derek. ‘I am starting to have all kinds of suspicions.’

They said their goodbyes and were seen out by another of the ubiquitous footmen. Scott was waiting with their horses, including Camaro.

‘I saw Allison leave.’ he said, his mouth turned down. ‘She looked upset.’

‘It was an interesting dinner.’ Stiles replied, taking Roscoe’s reins. ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’

Scott gave Derek a quizzical look which he answered with a shrug, getting on Camaro and waiting until everyone was ready to leave. He stayed behind them, his ears turned for anything out of the ordinary and was surprised when Stiles slowed Roscoe to let him catch up so they were riding some way behind Scott and Noah.  
They rode in silence for a while, the thud of hooves drowning out most of the murmuring ahead. Derek waited. He heard Stiles start to say something a few times and then stop and eventually turned to look at him.

‘You know.’ he said and Stiles startled and flailed so hard he nearly fell off Roscoe's back.

‘Know what?’ he asked, but Derek could clearly see that he was wide eyed and his heartbeat was going crazy.

‘About me. About all of us.’ he replied and was vindicated when Stiles nodded.

‘I do.’ He looked a little ashamed of himself. ‘Lydia told me earlier but I had already started to suspect something.’

‘Lydia? How on earth does she know?’ That did surprise Derek and Stiles gave him a sheepish smile.

‘She’s not exactly what you’d call human.’ he confessed and Derek’s mouth fell open. ‘And don’t worry, she’s happy for me to tell you. And in the spirit of confession that you seem to have been inspired by, neither am I.’

Derek was now the one to be sheepish.

‘I know.’ he replied. ‘You stink of magic.’

‘Oh?’ Stiles looked oddly pleased. ‘What do I smell like?’

‘Like a storm.’ Derek replied, glaring at him a little when the smile widened. ‘What are you?’

‘A Spark.’ Stiles said cheerfully. ‘I’m an odd combination of magic, clumsiness and brilliance in a very gangly package.’

‘Oh.’ Derek wondered just what that all meant. ‘Laura said you had a secret.’

‘And so do you.’ Stiles countered. ‘I know you’re a werewolf, that you all are. My knowledge is not exhaustive, but I assume Laura is the leader?’

‘Alpha.’ Derek corrected. ‘You’re not afraid of us?’

‘I learned long ago that the real monsters are all too often human.’ Stiles said, now serious. ‘My mother was a snegurochka, a snow maiden. She met my father when he was travelling through the Carpathians. They fell in love, married and I was the result.’

Derek found himself smiling at that.

‘Where is she now?’ he asked and then regretted his question when the all too familiar scent of a deep seated sadness suffused Stiles’ scent.

‘She went back to the snow.’ he replied. ‘She got sick when I was ten years old and it was the only way to save her. Unfortunately, it meant she could never come back to this world again. But at least I know she’s alive somewhere.’ He looked at Derek with complete understanding. ‘I know what it’s like.’

Derek nodded and contemplated his own loss. It still hurt more than he could bear sometimes, but he’d learned to live with it and find happiness again with Paige, before she’d also been ripped away from him.

‘What you said about the Beast. That it’s something dark. What do you think it is?’ He waited for an answer and when none came, he looked at Stiles. He seemed lost in thought but then he sighed.

‘Yesterday, what I said about it being a cat was true. It feels like a cat, but at the same time it feels like something magical and not in a good way. There’s a very distinct feeling to black magic and it’s here, around us. I think it’s the Argents.’

‘But not Chris.’ Derek said. ‘Or Allison. They smelled too surprised by what you said.’

‘They smelled surprised?’ Stiles’ face lit up. ‘You can smell what people feel?’

‘I can.’ Derek replied. ‘But I try to keep my nose to myself. We were taught not to be intrusive.’

‘Thankfully.’ Stiles laughed, but there was something starting to filter through. It smelled like musk and interest and Derek gave him a questioning look.

‘You have something to hide?’ he asked and Stiles dropped his eyes, the musk getting stronger.

‘You are a very attractive man.’ he confessed. ‘But not everyone is of the same inclination as myself.’

‘Wolves don’t particularly care.’ Derek told him. ‘For us it is the scent and the person who carries it that is of interest.’ He hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. ‘Laura told you of Paige?’

‘She did.’ Stiles replied. ‘I am sorry.’

‘She was....’ Derek swallowed, the hurt dull and persistent like a toothache. ‘You look very much like her.’

‘Oh.’ Stiles’ eyes were wide. ‘I did not know.’

‘She was spirited and kind and she would not hesitate to put me in my place.’ Derek said. ‘But she’s dead and you’re alive and I would not wish you to think that the only reason you smell good to me is because of that.’

He stopped, a little astounded that he was being so forthcoming.

‘You think I smell good?’ Stiles was doing that beaming thing of his again, his scent turning burnt sugar sweet.

‘Very.’ Derek admitted. ‘I like your wit and your fearlessness too. Not everyone would have tried to solve a mystery by literally throwing themselves head first into a conflict with the most powerful family in the valley.’

‘They might have money and titles that they bought.’ Stiles bristled. ‘But my friends in high places are considerably more dangerous than theirs, I assure you.’

‘As are you.’ Derek inhaled, taking in Stiles’ scent. ‘What will you do tomorrow?’

‘Hunt of course.’ Stiles grinned. ‘Just not what everyone else will be. What will you be doing?’

Derek smiled, letting his fangs lengthen and his eyes glow blue and very much enjoying the way Stiles gasped when he saw them.

‘I’m going to be doing a bit of sabotage.’ he replied and laughed at Stiles’ confused face.


	5. La Chasse Commence

News of the hunt had reached far and wide and when they rode towards the fields at the west edge of the village, Stiles was astonished by how large the gathered crowd was. There were soldiers from Parrish’s garrison, their red coats making them easily identifiable, mercenaries of every descriptions, hawkers taking advantage of the crowd to sell food and other things and nobles all gathered at the higher end of the meadow around a large field tent. 

‘I don’t see her.’ Scott was craning his neck, looking for Allison. 

‘She said she would be here.’ Stiles replied. ‘But she’ll be with Lydia and Kate so your chances of getting to speak to her are slim.’ 

Next to them Noah snorted, guiding Zolna through the crowd of men, most of them regarding them suspiciously. Stiles caught sight of the ones that he and Noah had driven off the night of their arrival and didn’t miss the angry looks sent their way.

‘Look at these fools.’ Noah muttered, looking mildly disgusted and not bothering to pull Zolna up when he snapped at someone who got too close. ‘I wouldn’t trust any of them to snare a rabbit, let alone hunt the Beast.’ 

Stiles grinned at him. Noah’s opinions of mercenaries were well known to him. 

‘There was a reason for their employ.’ Scott said, though he was looking less confident in his statement than before. ‘The Argents thought they would help.’ 

‘That’s not the impression we got last night.’ Noah said. ‘It would seem that this is not something that the Comte was wont to do.’

‘I had heard it was the old Comte who ordered it.’ Scott offered. 

‘Gerard?’ Noah looked thoughtful. ‘Tell me what you know of him.’ 

‘Not too much.’ Scott confessed. ‘He kept himself apart from the village. Then when he fell ill, he disappeared from sight entirely.’ 

‘What is his affliction?’ Stiles was curious. ‘How did he come by it?’

‘It was after he returned at the beginning of last year from Louisiana, I believe.’ Scott said. ‘He and Mademoiselle Katherine went together and were gone for a good five years after the Hale fire occurred. During that time, le Vicomte ran the estate.’

‘That explains a few things.’ Stiles muttered, his mind racing. There were many tales of the strangeness of Louisiana and the creatures that lurked in the swamps and woods. 

They arrived at the tent to find Parrish standing there waiting for them. He gave Noah a salute and held Zolna’s reins as he dismounted. 

‘Good morning.’ His dark green eyes were sparkling. ‘You are just in time to see the most amazing sight of a tent lifting off the ground from the production of hot air within.’ 

‘Marvellous.’ Noah chuckled, adjusting his coat and taking off his hat. ‘Come on, lad. Let’s go and observe.’ 

Stiles sniggered and then beamed when he spotted another arrival over Roscoe’s back. 

‘Go in.’ he said. ‘I’ll be along in a moment.’ 

Noah turned to see what had distracted him and then smiled, ducking inside the tent flap that Parrish held aside before following him. 

‘Don’t be long.’ he said over his shoulder. ‘And make sure he comes in with you. We’ll need him.’ 

Stiles nodded and handed Roscoe’s reins to Scott. 

‘Tie them up and then go see if you can find the Mademoiselles.’ He kept his eyes on the tall black horse coming through the crowd, his rider’s downturned face barely visible under his hat. There was another next to him, a tall slender young woman dressed like a man and riding a spirited blood bay. Her dark beauty mirrored Laura’s and Stiles had no trouble assuming this was the youngest Mademoiselle Hale. 

‘I’ll find you when the hunt begins.’ Scott said, leading the horses away and leaving Stiles to greet the Hales alone. He waited, unable to stop himself from smiling when Derek pulled Camaro to a stop and slid off his back. He waited for the young woman to do the same ad then nodded at Stiles. 

‘Cora, this is the Chevalier.’ he said, his pale eyes flicking over Stiles from head to toe and making Stiles heart pick up. Cora regarded him in a similar manner, her crooked smile so very similar to her brother’s. She folded her arms and leaned into Derek’s space. 

‘He has a lovely mouth.’ she observed without so much as a greeting. ‘I can see why you’re so taken with him.’ 

Stiles nearly choked on his next lungful of air. Derek was similarly afflicted, going bright red in the ears and stumbling over his protest. 

‘Cora.’ He ducked his head and Stiles found it beyond charming. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’ 

‘Only because you’re about as capable at making your affections known as a stump.’ Cora snorted, striding forward to the tent. ‘Then again, he looks like a maiden caught at her bath, so he’s a perfect match for you.’ She cackled as she went inside, leaving them to their mutual awkwardness. 

‘I apologise.’ Derek said stiffly. He was now glancing up through his lashes once again and Stiles had to leaping forward to kiss the life out of him. ‘Cora has always been outspoken.’ 

‘It is of no worry.’ Stiles replied, far too eager and berating himself for sounding like an adolescent. He chanced a small smile and when he got one in return he broke out into a wider one. ‘She’s spirited.’ 

‘You have no idea.’ Derek muttered, leading both horses over to the line to tie them up. ‘Between her and Laura, I barely have any control over my own life some days.’ 

‘Well, I promise to divert her.’ Stiles grinned. ‘Give you some peace.’

Derek’s mouth quirked in a most distracting way. He leaned his arms on Camaro’s broad back and looked at Stiles with a raised eyebrow. 

‘I would rather you diverted me.’ he said and then looked alarmed at his own daring. 

‘I can do that.’ Stiles blurted before he could change his mind. ‘Will you ride with me. I mean, us. My father is with Parrish in the tent.’ 

‘God’s balls.’ Derek muttered. ‘I should have gone in. He would have had no warning.’ 

‘For what?’ Stiles asked, bemused. 

‘For Cora.’ Derek came around Camaro and steered Stiles by the elbow towards the tent. ‘She’s probably eating everyone alive in there.’ 

‘That was a joke, right?’ Stiles had to jog to keep up. ‘You don’t really…?’

‘No, we do not.’ Derek rolled his eyes at him, yanking aside the flap and shoving him in in front of him. ‘I meant that.’ 

Stiles stopped dead, delighted at what he was seeing. There was an accumulation of well dressed men, some reeking of perfume and holding weapons that were clearly more for decoration than for actual hunting. Jackson and Whittemore were among them, as was his friend. Daniel, to give him credit, was less showily dressed and carrying a deadly looking pike of polished wood, taller than Daniel himself and with a shaft decorated with feathers and embedded with the wickedly serrated teeth of some strange creature. He nodded to them, moving to the side of the crowd where Chris Argent and several other men were on the other side of a campaign table being harangued by Cora. She was flanked by Noah, who was making no attempt to hinder her tirade and in fact seemed extremely amused by it. Parrish was nowhere in sight.

‘This…’ Cora spat, dragging a long forefinger down a line on the map in front of them, ‘is Hale land. You will keep your pigs off of it, Argent.’ 

There were splutters of outrage and anger and Derek sighed heavily. 

‘Cora.’ He moved to her side. ‘What is the problem?’

‘The problem is that these imbeciles take us for fools.’ Cora’s dark eyes were burning. ‘They think that by telling us to hunt along the western border that this will leave our lands open to them.’ Her smile was distinctly wolfish and Stiles was reminded of the bitch they had seen in the lodge the day before, which was undoubtedly her. 

‘And I am trying to explain that we shall gladly accede that border to you.’ Chris replied, ignoring the angry muttering behind him. ‘This does need to be a cause for war, Mademoiselle.’ 

‘Vicomte.’ One of the other nobles ventured. ‘We were agreed…’

‘We were not!’ Chris snapped. ‘I give the orders here, not my father!’ He turned back to Cora and then looked to Derek as well. ‘Monsieur le Marquis, I would be more than happy for you to take the eastern boundary and the woods there.’

‘Of course.’ Derek inclined his head. He’d changed in an instant, now darkly threatening and Stiles was bewitched. He gave Noah a pleading look and his father arched an eyebrow at him before speaking. 

‘By your leave Vicomte, we would like to accompany the Marquis and his sister.’ he said, coming forward. ‘The last attack was close to their lands and so it makes sense that the Beast may well be lurking there. Safety in numbers and all that.’

‘Yes, I concur.’ Chris stood up straight and waved a hand at the assembled nobles. ‘We shall begin in the west and drive the hunt towards the central ridge above the village.’

‘And we shall take the east.’ Noah smiled at both Derek and Cora. ‘By your leave of course, Monsieur le Marquis.’

‘We would appreciate the company.’ Derek replied. 

‘Then we are in accord.’ Chris was clipped, falling into an authority so similar to Noah’s that Stiles did wonder about him. 

‘Come.’ Noah clapped a cheerful hand on Derek’s shoulder. ‘We should discuss our strategy.’

‘For the hunt?’ Derek asked and Noah chuckled. 

‘No.’ He grinned at Stiles. ‘For making sure my son doesn’t talk your ear off like he did last night.’ 

The Hales exchanged looks but didn’t ask as they left the tent. At the now largely empty horse line, they were met by Daniel, his pike resting on one shoulder. 

‘Perhaps I should come with you.’ he said, his dimples deep as he smiled. ‘You seem like the only people that know what they’re doing.’

‘And what do you have to offer?’ Derek asked. Daniel moved in closer and for a second, his eyes went completely black. It startled all of them, but Stiles and Noah both had the wherewithal to not show anything and, oddly, Derek and Cora did not look at all surprised. 

‘What are you?’ Cora was blunt but Daniel smiled and held up a hand. 

‘A conversation for the hunt, I think.’ he replied. ‘My horse is tied with the Whittemores but I shall be along shortly.’

He strode off, leaving them all lost for words. 

‘Well now.’ Cora finally said, looking at Stiles and Noah. ‘Derek has already told me you both know about us. He said you have experience in these matters. If so, what the hell is he?’ She pointed after Daniel. 

‘I have no idea.’ Stiles was regarding Derek carefully. ‘Did you know before?’

‘He smells different.’ Derek said. ‘Like the dried fish the hawkers bring. I knew he wasn’t human, but what he is I could not tell.’ 

‘We’ll no doubt find out.’ Noah said. ‘We shall meet you on the rise.’

‘Fine.’ Derek swung himself into the saddle with Cora vaulting onto her bay just as easily. They took off at a canter, heading for the trees beyond the field and Noah took Stiles by the arm. 

‘This is getting more and more interesting by the minute.’ he said. ‘You missed the performance earlier. It seems that Gerard has given leave for the others to both hunt and send their men onto the Hales’ estate.’

‘He has no right.’ Stiles protested. ‘What does he think he’s doing?’

‘I don’t know.’ Noah replied. ‘I sent Jordan to go and put his men along the central ridge. I fear a conflict erupting later.’ 

‘Wise of you.’ Stiles could now see the young captain already riding at a column of men in red towards the central mountain ridge. ‘He’s be sad he missed Lydia though.’ 

They came to where Scott was waiting with the horses and mounted up. He looked rather morose. 

‘No sign of them.’ he said when pressed. ‘Perhaps their mothers persisted in not allowing them to come along.’ 

‘Maybe.’ Stiles put a commiserating hand on his shoulder. 

‘No.’ Noah was looking ahead. ‘I think perhaps they were just tardy.’ He pointed to three figures approaching them. ‘Although Derek will certainly be glad he missed her.’ 

They waited until the riders drew alongside. Stiles hid a smile at the way Scott’s eyes widened as he took in Allison’s loveliness. She was in scarlet and gold, a formidable looking flintlock holstered at the back of her saddle. Her tricorn was decorated with bright red plumes and it all enhanced her pale skin and dark eyes. Lydia was in midnight blue and silver, her gloves of black kid. She carried no weapon but Stiles knew she would never have a problem protecting herself. Kate was in lavender, an odd choice as it would show the mud. She gave them all a sickly sweet smile. 

‘Monsieur les Chevaliers.’ She inclined her head. ‘I am glad to have seen you. I wished to apologise for my outburst last night. I was not feeling well.’ 

Stiles had not been expecting a charm offensive so he blinked in surprise and said nothing. Thankfully, Noah was not as slow off the mark and offered his own smile, although it did not reach his eyes. 

‘Think nothing of it, Mademoiselle.’ he replied. ‘I am sure Stiles feels the same way, although in his case it is a hot temper that drives his tongue.’ He gave Stiles a mock stern look. ‘I have spoken with him.’ 

Kate looked pleased but behind her Lydia was rolling her eyes and Stiles had to stifle a smile. She rode her palomino gelding past Kate and smiled at him. 

‘I wish to come along with you today.’ she declared. ‘I think it would be a perfect opportunity for a prolonged conversation.’ 

‘Oh.’ Allison beamed. ‘May I join you as well.’ Her dark eyes darted over to Scott. ‘Lydia’s been telling me of your exploits Messieurs and I am very curious to know more.’

‘Allison.’ Kate frowned. ‘You are to remain with me.’ She smiled again but this time it was sly. ‘Unless we all join the Chevaliers, of course.’

‘We are joining the Marquis and his sister.’ Noah said. ‘We are taking the eastern border.’

‘Perfect.’ Kate’s hunger shone in her eyes. ‘I do so enjoy the Marquis’ company.’ 

‘Kate!’ The shout was from Chris. He was on a tall dappled grey mare, his face thunderous. ‘What are you doing here?’

He rode over and Kate actually looked uneasy for a moment before she tossed her head. 

‘You are not my keeper Christophe.’ she sneered. ‘Allison…’

‘Allison is perfectly capable of looking after herself.’ Chris gritted out. ‘I told you you were not to come.’ He nodded at his daughter. ‘You and Lydia may ride with me.’ 

‘With respect, Monsieur le Vicomte.’ Lydia said. ‘But I am joining the Chevaliers. Allison would be more than welcome to come with us.’ 

Chris considered for a moment and then nodded. 

‘You.’ He glared at Kate. ‘You’re coming with me.’ 

Kate opened her mouth to object and then shut it, riding off after him with a furious look on her face. 

‘Awkward.’ Stiles muttered. ‘Is it always like that?’ 

‘Papa and Kate do not see eye to eye.’ Allison explained as they started the ascent towards the eastern woods. ‘Papa does not approve of the family business or the way Kate treats her property.’ There was a distinct iciness in her voice. ‘Neither do I.’ 

‘That is good to know.’ Stiles said. 

‘We haven’t been here long.’ Allison admitted. ‘We were in Paris before but then my grandfather got sick and Papa came home to run the estate. That was only a few months before the Beast came.’ 

‘So you don’t know the Hales very well then?’ Noah asked and Allison shook her head. 

‘My parents are protective.’ she replied. ‘Lydia is the only friend I’ve made.’ She smiled at her and Lydia returned it. ‘And of course, my family’s history with them makes things difficult.’ She shrugged. ‘I would like to make more.’ 

This time there was definitely no mistaking the way she glanced at Scott, who beamed when he noticed. 

They got to the top of the incline and saw Derek and Cora speaking with Daniel. They looked a little surprised when they saw Allison, but weren’t unwelcoming. She and Lydia greeted them and Daniel and they began the ride into the eastern woods.

The hunt was going on in the valley below, the shouts of men and shots from flintlocks easily audible to Stiles’ ears. Up on the ridge though, there was little noise apart from the normal sounds of the forest around them. Lydia and Daniel, who’d told them to call him Danny, were all conversing about the natural flora and fauna of Hawaii, Danny’s island home. Behind them, Scott and Allison were riding together, their mutual smiles enough to have everyone leave them to it. Noah was out in front with Cora, who seemed to have taken quite a shine to him. 

‘He’s a good man, your father.’ Derek was smiling that small crooked smile of his. ‘Cora likes him and she never likes anybody.’

Stiles grinned.

‘He has that effect on people. It’s what made him such a good leader when he was in the army.’ 

Derek considered that, his head tilted like a curious puppy and then fixed his pale eyes on Stiles. 

‘Would you tell me more about your mother?’ he asked and Stiles felt his stomach twist a little from his hoard of bittersweet memories. 

‘It was when he was commanding a garrison at an outpost close to Przełęcz Łupkowska.’ He sighed. ‘It was winter, bitterly cold and one of the worst that the region had seen. There was a missing child from the village and he took it upon himself to try and find them.’

‘What happened?’ Derek asked. He was riding close enough that their knees brushed and Stiles smiled when he saw the keen interest in his eyes. 

‘He got lost of course.’ He snorted, looking to where his father was making Cora cackle like a witch. ‘He got himself turned around in a blizzard and had to try and find shelter for the night. Thankfully he found a cave and it was enough to keep him from the worst. The next morning, he woke to find the entire area iced over, like someone had come through during the night and painted every branch with it until it looked like blown glass. He heard singing and when he came out of the cave he saw her, dancing in the clearing in front of it. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen with pale skin dotted with dark marks like a scatter of gunpowder. He said she was in white, her dress and boots seeming to both hide and reveal her at the same time and when she turned to look at him he was hypnotised by the way she looked at him. She was making snowflakes, weaving them out of the air and every branch she touched frosted over.’ He fell silent, thinking of how she had done the same for him when he was a child.

‘You have her eyes.’ Derek said and Stiles blinked in surprise.

‘Yes.’ He frowned. ‘But not her beauty I think.’ 

‘I disagree.’ Derek’s voice was soft, almost wondering. ‘I find you quite beautiful.’

‘I suppose it makes sense.’ Stiles didn’t bother to hide his pleased smile. ‘Wolves like the snow.’ 

Derek matched it, his green eyes lighting up with a mischievous sparkle that completely transformed his face. 

‘You know what else we like?’ He grinned and it was sharper than normal. ‘The chase.’ 

It took only a second for Stiles to comprehend what he was alluding too and then he grinned, clamping his heels to Roscoe’s sides. She wasn’t the most elegant of mounts, but she was responsive and she took off, nearly barging Allison and Scott off the track as she cantered past them. He heard Derek’s laugh and the beat of Camaro’s hooves as he followed and saw Noah’s sly grin when they galloped past heading into the trees. 

The trail wound between the trees and they kept pace, Derek bringing Camaro alongside Roscoe as they rode deeper into the gloom. His obvious delight set Stiles’ blood on fire and he gave Roscoe her head. She took off, the triple beat of her hooves muffled by the dead leaves and mossy ground. Camaro snorted loudly behind them and Stiles threw a devil-may-care smile over his shoulder, silently daring Derek to catch him. 

Derek returned it and they kept going, riding until the trees thinned and they found themselves in another clearing, stone ruins heavily overgrown with vines surrounding them. Stiles pulled Roscoe to a walk, looking around him in fascination. 

‘What is this place?’ he asked and turned to look at Derek. 

‘It used to be a Templar fort.’ Derek replied. He moved past Stiles to a wall, pulling back the vines to reveal a cross carved into the stone. ‘Now it’s just memories. The villagers never come here. They say it’s cursed.’ 

‘Superstitions.’ Stiles snorted. 

‘And yet you practise magic.’ Derek smirked and slid off Camaro’s back. He led him to a small grassy patch and left him to graze. Stiles did the same, then fell into step with Derek to move between the stones. 

‘Magic is different.’ he declared. ‘It’s closer to science than people think.’

‘Indeed.’ Derek raised an eyebrow at him. ‘How so?’

‘There is natural magic, like the kind my mother had and which I can use.’ Stiles explained. ‘I can manipulate the elements, ride the minds of animals if they allow me. But I cannot turn lead into gold or conjure up the dead and I would not wish to. That is the way of black magic.’ 

Derek’s face darkened. 

‘You said that last night.’ He scuffed a boot along the ground. ‘The Beast?’

‘I think it’s a manifestation.’ Stiles replied. ‘Or a corruption of something that should be natural. You’re a werewolf and with your senses you would be able to tell if it was a mere animal and yet you do not believe it is.’

‘No.’ Derek said. ‘I would have caught it by now, or my pack would have. If it is black magic as you have said and you suspect the Argents, then it must be Gerard and Kate. They are the two I would be most inclined to suspect.’ 

‘Scott said they went to Louisiana before returning just before the Beast made her first appearance.’ Stiles remarked. ‘I am surprised that nobody put two and two together.’ 

‘Proving magic is a dangerous business.’ Derek muttered. ‘Laura has us keep our heads down as much as possible. Should the village discover what we are, especially now, what do you think they would do?’

‘True.’ Stiles chewed on his lip. ‘It all fits though. Maybe the Beast is another attempt to get rid of your pack.’

‘She has not had the chance to.’ Derek bared a fang. ‘And it’s because of her that our numbers have grown. Before it was only the four of us. Now we are seven.’ He did not seem to notice his slip, having no idea that Stiles already knew of Peter, and he grinned. 

‘Your arithmetic needs work.’ he said, sauntering forward and then skidding to a stop when a huge iron grey wolf burst out the undergrowth and knocked him off his feet. He wheezed, the wolf’s entire weight resting on his paws which were in turn on Stiles’ chest, and glanced at Derek. 

‘Your uncle, I presume.’ he said, just to see Derek’s eyes widen. 

‘You know?’ he asked and Stiles nodded, shoving at the wolf but not managing to move him even an inch. 

‘Lydia told me.’ He glared at the wolf. ‘Do you mind?’

The wolf snorted in his face but retreated to sit on his haunches, regarding Stiles with sharp blue eyes that were far too amused to be those of an animal. 

‘Peter.’ Derek admonished gently, ruffling his uncle’s ears. ‘He’s on our side.’ 

Peter chuffed and nosed at Derek’s hand before taking off again into the undergrowth. Derek came forward, holding out a hand and pulling Stiles to his feet when he took it. They were of a height and Stiles indulged himself with a long look into Derek’s eyes, admiring the ever changing colours. 

‘He never changes back?’ he asked. 

‘No.’ Derek was making no sign of moving away or releasing his hand. In fact he was pulling Stiles closer and Stiles went happily. ‘Can we not talk about my uncle right now?’

‘What else did you want to talk about?’ Stiles asked, his breathing catching when Derek’s other arm snuck around his waist and pulled him close enough that they were only inches apart. 

‘I find talking to be largely overrated.’ he said. ‘Laura says that I was whelped surly and loathe to converse and she’s right. I prefer action to words.’ 

‘In that case, feel free to demonstrate instead.’ Stiles grinned. He was practically vibrating with excitement and when Derek leaned in, he moved to meet him. The kiss was easy and quiet at first, at least until Stiles reached to place a hand at Derek’s neck. That got him a deep growl and then he was being toppled over into the grass once again, Derek coming down to rest over him on hands and knees, his eyes glowing blue. 

‘They’re lovely.’ Stiles couldn’t resist tracing the line of his jaw, smiling when Derek bit his fingers gently. ‘Like sapphires.’ 

‘Are a poet too?’ Derek asked. ‘Am I going to be serenaded with flowery words while I do all the work?’

‘No.’ Stiles snorted and pulled him back in. This time he took charge, easing Derek’;s mouth open to taste him and inhaling sharply at the brush of Derek’s tongue against his own. He threw himself in head first, as he usually did, and was extremely pleased when the growl was repeated and Derek all but plundered his mouth. They kissed, wet and messy and Stiles managed to hook one leg around Derek’s hip and yanked him down on top of him. There was a brief moment of wonderful friction and then Derek rolled his hips once and Stiles was lost. It had been some time since his last dalliance and he was not letting Derek go until he was satisfied. He rose to meet him on the next thrust, his hands mapping out Derek’s broad shoulders and making a deeply satisfied noise when he felt the rigid line of Derek’s cock against his own erection. They carried on like that and Stiles was about to make a move on the fall of Derek’s breeches when the sound of a wolf howling had them freezing in place. 

‘Damn.’ Derek’s eyes were still glowing and the tips of his fangs were peeking out over his bottom lip. ‘Peter.’ He was up and moving in an instant, leaving Stiles to huff in annoyance and get up to follow him. 

They found Peter standing atop one of the stone piles, growling at the intruders. Derek took in the sight before him and moved too quickly for Stiles to track, knocking Allison’s flintlock up so the shot was sent harmlessly into the trees, sending up a flock of birds. 

‘What…?’ she started but Scott was there suddenly, getting between her and Derek, his dark eyes burning with indignation.

‘What did you do that for?’ he cried, seemingly angry enough that he was speaking to a marquis in a fashion that would have seen him horsewhipped should Derek have been that way inclined. 

‘It is a wolf!’ Allison waved a hand at Peter, struggling to get her rifle away from Derek. 

‘That may be.’ he replied, holding fast. ‘But it’s not the Beast.’ 

Peter chuffed and slipped off the stones, trotting past Stiles with a jaunty step and a very obvious wink in his direction. A moment later, he’d disappeared and the thud of hooves signalled the arrival of Cora, Noah and Danny. 

Stiles saw how Cora’s nostrils flared and then her loaded look at her brother. Derek nodded and released the rifle. 

‘My apologies, Mademoiselle.’ he said. ‘But that wolf is not to be harmed.’ 

‘Why on earth not?’ Allison was still frustrated but it was tempered by curiosity. 

‘That is a story for another day.’ Derek told her. He looked past her to Scott. ‘Why did you bring her here. It is far from the ridge and you were separated. Don’t you realise the danger?’

Scott had the grace to look sheepish. 

‘She outrode me.’ he offered. ‘I could barely keep up as it was.’ 

‘I’m no weak woman hiding from the hunt, Monsieur.’ Allison tossed her head. ‘I am as capable as you.’ 

Derek huffed and then looked to the others. 

‘You need to leave.’ he said. ‘Get back to what we were supposed to be doing.’ 

‘Before you and Stiles took off, you mean.’ Cora was grinning. ‘You can’t tell off Allison when you did the same.’ 

‘Thank you.’ Allison graced her with a dimpled smile. 

‘Fine.’ Derek snorted. ‘Then we’ll all go back.’ 

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, caught Noah’s look and promptly shut his mouth, knowing he’d catch hell later. His father did not look pleased that he’d ridden off, but then he was prone to overprotectiveness in spite of Stiles’ capability. Danny, on the other hand, had a gleam in his eyes that told Stiles he knew exactly why he and Derek had ridden off. 

He went to go retrieve Roscoe, grumbling about being interrupted, and only Derek’s wry smile managed to perk him back up.


	6. La Fete

Stiles looked on, entranced. Down below on a small rise that looked over thick trees leading back down into the valley, Derek and Cora stood with their heads tilted back as they howled. Allison, Lydia, Jordan and Scott were far behind them, stalking through the lower slopes and far from where they were. Jordan had gladly taken over chaperoning duties to spend time with Lydia after he’d ridden up to find them and report on the movements of the Argents and the other hunting party on the western side of the valley.

‘This is rather surreal.’ Noah said. He was with Danny, both of them just as fascinated by the spectacle of the siblings calling to any wolves that might be in the forest. Derek had explained that they were bringing them up to safety and Stiles had seen numerous figures amongst the trees, running past after slowing to look at them.

‘It’s very interesting.’ Danny said. ‘We can do something similar with our own.’

‘I should like to see that.’ Stiles turned to him. Danny had told them of his own and the bond between him and the native sharks of Hawaii. His family were revered for their ability to assume the form of the very creatures that were so important to his people. Stiles had encountered sharks on several occasions, although the ones that Danny described were unfamiliar to him, with their shadowy stripes and black eyes and razor sharp teeth, the very same ones on his pike.

There was a crunch behind them and they all looked around to see Peter. He padded past them and went to stand between Derek and Cora, leaning into his niece. She absently scratched behind his ears and Noah chuckled.

‘It’s a pity he does not return to human form.’ he observed. ‘I should like to talk to him.’

Peter glanced back and woofed, his eyes alight with amusement.

‘He says you should learn to change shape instead.’ Derek smiled. It made his eyes crinkle and Stiles lamented how attractive it made him look.

‘One day, perhaps.’ Noah addressed Peter directly. ‘For now we may have to make do with gestures.’

Cora had told him and Danny about Peter on their way up to call the wolves. Danny in particular had been sympathetic, explaining how it was his family’s custom to return to the sea when they felt the call.

‘Sometimes being in human form is more trouble than it’s worth.’ he said and Stiles eyed him curiously.

‘I find it strange that you are friends with Monsieur Whittemore. He seems a very narrow minded man.’ He raised an eyebrow at Danny, surprised when Danny actually flushed. ‘Oh. Or maybe there’s something else.’

‘Jackson and I have been friends a long time.’ Danny confessed, his flush deepening. ‘That is all.’

‘No it’s not.’ Cora gave him an arch look. ‘You know we can smell that.’

‘Damn.’ Danny muttered and Stiles grinned at her.

‘You can smell attraction?’ he asked and she nodded.

‘The body has a very distinctive scent when it desires another.’ she replied, striding back to Sauvage. ‘And I wouldn’t be too smug. You reek of it wherever you’re around him. Not that he’s any better, mind.’ She nodded back at her brother. Derek’s shoulders tensed and his ears went scarlet and Stiles wanted to grab him and kiss him until he was breathless.

‘What will happen after the hunt?’ Noah asked her and she shrugged.

‘The Argents throw their wealth around with fine wines and oxen roasted in the field.’ She vaulted onto Sauvage with ease. ‘Plenty to eat but you have to put up with insufferable conversation in order to fill your belly. I tend to avoid such things.’

‘You should go.’ Derek had come back off the rise. ‘It would be another chance to question everyone, with the benefit that most drink too much and it loosens their tongues. You may even catch a glimpse of Gerard, should he choose to grace you with his presence.’ The disdain in his tone belied his words and Stiles gave Noah a questioning look.

‘I’ll be there.’ Danny offered, now also back on his mount. ‘I can certainly offer better company.’

‘What about you?’ Stiles asked as Derek brushed past him.

‘Not my favourite pastime.’ Derek said. ‘But should you require an escort, I would make the effort.’

Stiles beamed at him.

‘In that case, we shall have to make an appearance.’ he declared and Derek snorted.

‘Just make sure you keep the bitch away from me and I won’t have to bite anyone.’ he said and Stiles laughed and then tripped over a root.

‘How is he one of the King’s most venerated hunters?’ Danny asked Noah and he snorted with laughter.

‘I ask myself that all the time.’ he replied and kicked Zolna into a canter, leaving Stiles making outraged noises in his wake.

-

The count at the end of the day was woefully small and Chris made a disgusted noise as he walked the line of wolves that the hunt had managed to corner and shoot. Most of them were old and infirm and he kicked at the ground, his temper taking a decided turn for the worse. Not only that but Kate had been insufferable. She’d needled him about Allison trading allegiances and going off with Lydia and the Hales and Chris had had to bite his lip to keep from snapping at her.

He walked back to where the other comtes and vicomtes were gathered, stopping just before he got to them when he saw Parrish come back with his daughter and Lydia in tow. Thankfully the landlady’s son was hanging back by the tents. Chris had seen the way Scott watched Allison, his dark eyes shining with admiration. In spite of himself he had respect for Madame McCall and knew that Scott was good hearted, although nowhere near the kind of man he would have Allison marry. He’d once considered that if Kate hadn’t made such a mess of things, he might have approached Laura for a union between her and Derek but there was little love lost after that whole affair and now they simply avoided each other. Derek’s presence at the dinner and then at the hunt, bringing Cora no less, had piqued his interest. They didn’t normally pay much attention, choosing to rather run his father’s mercenaries off themselves.

‘Papa!’ Allison was glowing, the fresh air and exercise always making her look her loveliest. Not for the first time Chris wished she was a young man instead, one who could carry his title and the family honour once he was gone.

‘Allison.’ He nodded to Parrish. ‘Capitaine, thank you for returning the Mademoiselles safely.’

‘My pleasure, Monsieur le Vicomte.’ Parrish inclined his head.

‘Papa, may the Capitaine join us this evening?’ Allison dimpled at him and Chris felt himself relent. He knew that Lydia and Parrish had an understanding, even if her rather dim-witted mother hadn’t picked up on it yet, and that Allison shamelessly aided and abetted them.

‘I think that would be up to Monsieur le Capitaine.’ he said, demurring to Parrish. That way he had plausible deniability.

‘I..’ Parrish’s eyes darted to Lydia, as they always did, and she smiled at Chris. It always unsettled him for while Lydia looked like an angel fallen to earth, she was far more intelligent than anyone he’d ever met.

‘I would be in attendance.’ she offered. ‘With my good friends that are visiting of course.’

That was meant to be a hint and Chris took it.

‘I think we could find a place for Messieurs les Chevaliers.’ he replied. In truth he was intrigued by them both and wished to lure Noah into a quiet corner to interrogate him. Stiles unsettled him, the young hunter being far too astute for his liking, but then again he’d managed to wind Kate up so beautifully so Chris couldn’t really dislike him. He’d even allow for the appearance of Derek Hale if it meant his sister being upset. Chris couldn’t really put into words how much he despised her. ‘I would be delighted for them to join us.’

‘Thank you, Monsieur.’ Lydia twinkled at him, the manipulative little minx. ‘I’m sure it will prove to be a most entertaining evening.’

-

They parted ways at the crossroads, having already said goodbye to Danny. He’d ridden back down into the village to find the Whittemores and now they were just saying goodbye when Scott came cantering along.

‘You’ve been invited to the feast tonight.’ he told Stiles, bright eyed and overly excited. ‘Allison will be there.’

‘So of course, we will require you to accompany us.’ Stiles grinned, glancing at Derek. He rolled his eyes and Cora laughed at him, sharp and bright.

‘Better you than me.’ she declared and nodded to them, cantering off into the trees without another word. Stiles could just make out Peter, half hidden by the trees as he bounded after her. He’d followed them the whole way home, keeping well out of sight.

‘Monsieur le Vicomte did say everyone.’ Scott was looking at Derek, a little intimidated but trying.

‘Fine.’ Derek snorted, turning Camaro towards the chateau. ‘Be this on our head.’ That was for Stiles and he smirked as Derek made a show of kicking Camaro into a run, chasing after his sister and uncle.

‘So dramatic.’ he chuckled.

‘That’s certainly your type.’ Noah muttered and then smiled at Scott. ‘We shall certainly be there. I hear there’s very good wine involved.’

At the inn they rested, taking a light meal and washing up. Scott took their boots away for cleaning, leaving them to sit in the salon and soak in the heat from the fire.

‘It’s getting chilly.’ Stiles remarked. ‘I would expect frost soon.’ His mother’s heritage allowed him to read the coming snows like reading a book.

‘Mmmm.’ Noah had his pipe out, blowing rings of blue smoke. ‘What do you have in mind for this evening’s festivities.’

‘I want to get a look at Gerard.’ Stiles said, turning serious. ‘See what I make of him.’

‘I shall provide a diversion in that case.’ Noah chuckled.

The sun had set by the time they set out once more, all dressed for the occasion. Stiles was excited, barely managing to stop fidgeting as they rode to the end of the road to find Derek already there and waiting for them. He fell in next to Stiles and they took off, trotting down the slope towards the lights of the village.

The feast was on a field at the edge of the formal gardens, the barns providing a backdrop to several enormous fires, the skinned and dressed carcasses of sheep and a couple of oxen staked into the ground to roast. To one side, several long tables had been set for the nobles, lit by candelabra and crammed with dishes of fruit and cheese and bread. There was also plenty of the aforementioned wine.

Some of the Argent attendants came to take their horses, leading them away. Scott retreated to where a group of village people were gathered, chatting with some of the younger ones that Stiles knew him to be friendly with. He moved closer to Derek, able to spot the way he went stiff at a brassy laugh. He reached out, hand on Derek’s arm.

‘I’m here.’ he said softly, just enough for Derek to pick up with his wolf ears. ‘I’ll be your man-at-arms.’

Noah was already striding ahead, putting on his most amiable expression. It was one that had lulled many unsuspecting people into giving up their secrets and Stiles knew better than to interfere. Instead he looked around and saw a flash of dark gold and red hair and knew he’d found Lydia.

Parrish was with her, dancing attendance and glaring at Jackson, who was glaring right back. Here, his status as garrison captain was enough to allow him to be in the background and Stiles grinned. He nodded to Danny, seated next to Jackson and resplendent in inky black velvet trimmed with gold thread. Danny returned the greeting and dimpled when he saw Derek, who hadn’t really bothered to dress, apart from putting on a clean shirt and washing his face. Even so, he was by far the most handsome man there, and Stiles saw several of the Vicomtesses that were the wives and daughters of the other nobles all prick up their metaphorical ears when they saw him.

Noah had found Chris, standing at the back with Victoire in a chair next to him, talking to Madame Whittemore and Natalie. He watched how his father engaged him and was surprised to see a genuine smile from Chris. Maybe the Vicomte welcomed a conversation that could be had with a man he considered an equal. Kate was nowhere to be seen, but Stiles did note the presence of another man. He was in a wicker chair, one that could be carried, and he was balding and as pale as the underbelly of a trout. His eyes burned dark and malevolent and Stiles knew he’d found the man he’d wished to see.

‘Gerard?’ he murmured.

‘Yes.’ Derek growled. He shifted, looking slightly murderous and Stiles sighed and elbowed him.

‘Don’t lose control.’ he told him. ‘I’d like t not to have to explain your sudden hirsuteness.’

Derek gave him a disgusted look.

‘I have never accidentally shifted in front of humans.’ he hissed. Stiles smiled at him.

‘That’s better.’ he said. ‘Angry is a delicious look on you and it makes you focus.’

Derek startled and then narrowed his eyes at him. It made Stiles laugh in delight and take his arm, tugging him towards the table.

‘I hate you.’ Derek muttered, but he allowed himself to be led.

‘You are such a sour wolf.’ Stiles couldn’t stop himself from smiling. ‘Now let’s go get something to eat. I’m famished.’

-

Allison was a little bemused to see Stiles with the Marquis in tow once again. She glanced at Lydia and got a smirk. Obviously there was a story there, especially judging from the way they had been thick as thieves on their hunt. She had also noticed Scott at the fire. It had been so nice to ride with him openly that afternoon, to talk and pretend that their respective social standings had no bearing and they could simply be two people who might fall in love under the autumn leaves. Scott was kind hearted and hardworking, if not as dashing or rich as others who wanted to woo her.  
She chanced a look at her parents and saw that her father was talking to the older Chevalier. Victoire was also in deep conversation and she spotted her chance.

‘Lydia.’ she murmured and Lydia did a lighting quick assessment of the scene and nodded.

‘Go.’ she replied and then pressed Jordan to take a place next to Allison’s empty chair so at first glance it would be difficult to see she was not in it. That was all the opportunity Allsion needed and she gleefully escaped, heading towards the fire where she spied a mop of dark hair and completely missing the sharp eyes that tracked her progress.

-

Stiles gaped. He looked at Derek, who just shrugged, and then back at Jackson.

‘I have absolutely no interest in Lydia at all.’ he declared. ‘She is like a sister to me!’

‘See?’ Danny muttered into his goblet. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’

Jackson, in the face of Lydia’s obvious fan flirting with Parrish, had come over under the pretence of having a conversation and decided to pick a fight instead. Now he was glaring at Stiles but then he took a step back.

‘Very well.’ he said. ‘If that is not why you’re here, what are you after, Chevalier?’

‘The Beast.’ Stiles replied. ‘Just like you.’

Jackson deflated a bit.

‘She’s impossible to catch.’ he muttered, glancing at Derek. ‘Even the Marquis has had no luck.’

‘True.’ Derek said over the edge of his cup of wine. He’d worked his way through almost an entire platter of roasted lamb and a whole loaf of bread and was now on the pastries, glaring at anyone who tried to take any and was looking far more relaxed. Stiles was truly impressed by his appetite, hoping that it would be reflected in other areas and that they would be able to continue their brief dalliance from earlier, preferably for the rest of the evening.

Parrish ambled over, giving Jackson a smug look before turning to Stiles.

‘Mademoiselle Martin would like a word.’ he told him and Jackson sneered.

‘Are you her messenger now?’ he asked and Parrish gave him a cool look and then ignored him.

‘Marquis.’ He addressed Derek. ‘There is a game of _brelan_ afoot and I need a partner.’

Derek nodded, absently wiping down his hands on his breeches. He gave Jackson a curt nod, Danny one less so and then followed Parrish towards the fire. Stiles had no doubt Parrish had been sent to get him so they could chaperone Allison and Scott, who were fooling nobody with their demure fireside conversation. Thankfully her parents were yet to notice.

He took his leave, going to where Lydia was waiting and taking the seat next to her.

‘What do you think?’ Lydia’s green eyes were fixed on the old man at the end of the table. ‘Our venerable Comte is the picture of ill health is he not?’

‘I would like to get closer in order to make an assessment.’ Stiles replied. ‘I have also noticed that Mademoiselle Argent is conspicuously absent.’

‘She has a _mal a la tête_.’ Lydia snorted. ‘I think perhaps she was soundly berated by her brother today after seeing how she behaved when we arrived at the hunt.’

‘Interesting.’ Stiles chanced a quick look at Gerard. ‘Think you can get me closer.’

‘Absolutely.’ Lydia smiled, her eyes twinkling.

-

Noah was enjoying himself, much to his astonishment. He had learned that Chris was far more than some spoiled son of a Comte. Prior to Gerard’s appointment, Chris had spent his life earning his own wealth as a soldier of fortune, which was apparently very different to a mercenary he hastened to tell him. That had led them to a long conversation about the Americas and Canada and Noah was pleased to see that Chris held a great many of the same values he did.

‘I miss it.’ he confided, looking forlornly into his wine. ‘Playing Vicomte has never been my forte.’

‘It is one of the reasons I have never accepted such an honour.’ Noah replied. ‘Chevalier suits me well and allows me to do what I wish without the need to tend an estate.’

‘I envy you.’ Chris replied. They had moved away from where his wife was still holding court and his father was sat like a toad in a pond, watching with eyes that Noah did not like the look of at all. The old man was positively odious.

‘I have been lucky.’ he said. ‘I have a good life and when I am too old to go on adventures, I shall find a small maison de la chasse and spend the rest of my days sitting by the fire and annoying Stiles.’  
‘Hmm.’ Chris looked past him, ice blue eyes widening a little. ‘Don’t look now, but your son seems to be stalking my father.’

Noah looked back to see Stiles and Lydia approaching.

‘God’s balls.’ he muttered. ‘They have no subtlety at all.’

-

‘Monsieur le Comte.’ Lydia was using her sweetest, sugariest voice. ‘May I present the Chevalier Stilinski.’

Stiles watched the older Argent lift his head, barely concealing his distaste.

‘I have heard of the Stilinskis.’ he sneered. ‘Prussians.’

‘Yes.’ Stiles refused to give way, a brilliant smile on his face. He eased out a few tendrils of his magic, working hard to not show his revulsion. The energy around Gerard Argent was putrid with decay. He inclined his head. ‘Monsieur le Comte. I have heard many stories about you.’

‘From that whelp no doubt.’ Gerard smiled but there wasn’t an ounce of humanity in it. ‘I have heard that you are running around with the Hale boy.’

‘I am.’ Stiles replied. ‘He has been most helpful in informing me of the Beast and her movements.’

‘Pah.’ Gerard snorted. ‘He has not a single clue as to what the Beast is. She is divine retribution for the abominations that infest this valley.’

Ah. Stiles thought. It looks like we have a fanatic on our hands.

‘I think that the Church begs to differ.’ he replied. ‘The Pope himself has declared the Beast a work of the Devil.’

‘The Church.’ Gerard’s eyes were filled with malevolence and Stiles got a distinct sense of something far darker hiding underneath. ‘Coddled weaklings hiding in their hallowed walls. They know nothing of true evil.’ He looked across at Chris. ‘If this is what the King sends, you should be grateful for my men!’

‘Father.’ Chris was stern and clearly holding tightly onto his temper. ‘Please.’

‘Not that you have been any help.’ Gerard cackled. ‘Your sister has bigger balls than you could ever hope to. She should be the Vicomte, not you.’

That drew an astonished silence from those within earshot. Chris stood staring at his father, his nostrils flaring. To Stiles’s surprise, it was Noah who broke the spell. He moved across from Chris to Stiles.

‘Come on.’ He said, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. ‘Let’s find the Marquis and leave. The air here has turned foul.’

Stiles nodded and then affected surprise, bending over to pick up the small gold button that he’d discreetly dropped while talking to Gerard.

‘I think you dropped this, Monsieur.’ he said and leaned forward to press it into Gerard’s hand. Gerard hissed and snatched his hand back, but it was enough for Stiles to get a glimpse of a yawning abyss inside him, something old and ancient evil coiled at the bottom.

‘Stiles.’ Noah’s voice was urgent. ‘Now.’

Stiles let himself be led away, throwing Lydia a quick glance that had her retreating to her mother’s side and whispering in her ear. He had no doubt that she would be not far behind him.

They found Derek and Parrish at a game. Derek was very pointedly looking at his cards and Stiles had no doubt that he’d heard the entire exchange.

‘Time to go.’ he said and Derek laid the cards down without a word and stood up, his face like thunder.

‘I’ll find Scott.’ Noah was already moving between the gathered people and Stiles looked to Parrish.

‘The Martins will need someone to escort them home.’ he said and Parrish wasted no time in getting up.

‘Tomorrow.’ he said to Derek, who nodded, then strode across the yard to where Lydia was still with her mother.

The horses were stabled with others in one of the barns and once they were inside, Derek took him by the arm and slammed him against the earnest stall. He came in close, the wolf coming out in his glowing eyes and the way he rubbed a stubbled cheek against Stiles’ neck.

‘That bastard.’ he growled. ‘I heard what he said.’

‘It’s not what he said that bothers me.’ Stiles replied, shuddering at the remembrance of the feeling of pure evil that had lined Gerard’s very being. ‘I have no doubt now that he’s behind this and that the Beast is his creature.’ He frowned. ‘Kate was missing so I think she’s also definitely connected.’

‘Is it something they summoned?’ Derek asked. He was calmer after scenting, his eyes fading back to green and his ears far less pointy. ‘A demon?’

‘Perhaps.’ Stiles replied. ‘I’d need to get a read on it.’

Noah arrived as they were untying the horses, no Scott in his wake and looking unhappy at having to leave without him.

‘He’s insisting on staying.’ he said. ‘I tried to tell him that safety is in numbers but he wouldn’t have it.’

‘Perhaps he can sleep his love sickness off here.’ Stiles said, throwing the reins over Roscoe’s head. He turned to Derek. ‘Will you patrol tonight?’

‘I will.’ Derek said. ‘This evening has left me feeling wary.’

‘Then we shall see the old man to the inn and I shall come with you.’ Stiles said, swinging into the saddle. ‘See what we may find.’

‘If that’s what you’re calling it.’ Noah muttered, swinging Zolna’s head around. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him and followed, the soft thud of their horses’ hooves almost drowned out by the continued revelry. Stiles caught a glimpse of Parrish along with six other men escorting the Martins to a carriage and felt reassured. He was a good soldier and it was unlikely the Beast would ambush an armed man and several of his own garrison.

They took off down the drive, riding at an easy canter with Derek in the lead. It took about thirty minutes to reach the crossroads and when they did, he rode with them down the lane towards the inn. It was in darkness, Melissa having obviously gone to bed and Stiles helped Noah untack Zolna.

‘Leave Roscoe here too.’ Derek instructed and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, then handed over the reins to Noah. His father raised an eyebrow at the proceedings and went back into the stable and Stiles made a face.

‘Are you expecting me to jog after you?’ he asked and Derek smirked and then handed him Camaro’s reins before shedding his greatcoat and laying it across Camaro’s back.

‘He’s faster and used to me.’ he replied, still disrobing. Stiles stared at him, unashamedly delighted as more and more of Derek was revealed. He was naked when Noah finally came out of the stable and Stiles was entranced by the play of shadow across bare skin and muscles that made Derek look like he’d been sculpted by a Renaissance master, right down to the more than adequate length between his legs.

‘Well things seem to be progressing.’ he chuckled and Derek huffed a laugh.

‘I’ll be waiting for you by the crossroads. Bring my clothes with you.’ he said to Stiles and melted into the darkness.

‘Yes, Marquis.’ Stiles called after him, snorting when he turned back to see Noah grinning. ‘What?’

‘Oh nothing.’ Noah watched as he folded up Derek’s clothes and stuffed them in his saddlebag, tying his boots and coats to Camaro’s rump. ‘Just that you’ve kind of met your match there.’

‘Funny.’ Stiles muttered and regarded the tall stallion. As if reading his mind Camaro blew air out his nose at him and stomped a hoof impatiently.

‘Time for bed.’ Noah yawned, stretching his arms. ‘Good hunting and try not to get yourself killed.’

Stiles had a foot in the stirrup, hopping about as he tried to get on. Camaro was much bigger than Roscoe and it took him a couple of tries to get on. He finally made it up and Camaro decided that was a fine time to break into a trop so Stiles was left scrambling to get his seat, falling along the stallion’s long neck and cursing.

At the crossroads he stopped and waited expectantly and Stiles had a chance to get settled, then gaped as a massive black wolf stepped out into the moonlight. His eyes flashed blue and Stiles broke into a broad smile.

‘You’re rather magnificent.’ he said and Derek chuffed and trotted past, Camaro immediately following with no fear at all of the predator in front of him. They were headed towards the Hale chateau and a few moments later a ghost like grey shape appeared from the trees. Peter barked softly in greeting and went to run alongside his nephew.

-

‘I have to go.’ Allison murmured. She and Scott were in a shadowed corner by the barn, holding hands and hiding from everyone. It had been a moment of madness for both of them, the ensuing argument after the Stilinskis had left giving them a chance to slip away.

‘Will I get to see you again?’ Scott pressed, ‘Soon?’

‘I’ll try to get to Lydia’s this week.’ Allison smiled, and then turned her head, hearing Victoire calling for her. ‘I really must go.’

Scott made a bold move, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.

‘Good night.’ he said and Allison flushed prettily and pulled her hand free.

‘Good night she replied and ducked away. Scott stayed hidden and heard her talking to her mother, saying that she’d gone to stroke the horses. There was a lot of tutting and then their voices died away, giving Scott a chance to get Marmote and leave. Most of the other hands were drunk, laying around the fires and paying him no mind. It was not a long ride to the inn and he was still warm from the wine and food and the dimples in Allison’s cheeks.

Marmot ambled along, snorting plumes of steam as he worked up to a steady plod. His bumpy gait had Scott swaying in the saddle as he was lulled into a doze and he turned to take the forest path that skirted the eastern edge of the fields surrounding the village, rather than riding through the village itself. It would shave off a significant amount of time and he spared no thought for anything else as they entered the trees, the moon overhead blotted out and dappling the ground. The track itself wound between the fields and the Hale estate and Scott knew it like the back of his hand. He barely had to even keep his eyes open, Marmote knowing exactly where they were going.

They were at the foot of the rise that led to the open meadow where Heather had been found when he woke up enough to see that Marmote had stopped, his ears pricked and breath coming in agitated snorts. He was looking up the rise and Scott frowned, blinking when he spotted something that looked like two green lights just ahead of him.

It wasn’t until the lights moved and blocked out the moon, massive and monstrous, that Scott realised what it was. By then it was too late and Marmote was on his hind legs, screaming in that terrible way horses did and throwing him to the ground, taking off at a run into the trees. The shadow began to prowl down the slope and Scott scuttled backwards, panic and dread filling him until all he could do was roll over and stagger to his feet, running for his life the same way she’d gone.


	7. The Beast Is Cornered

They were running along the lower slope of the rise, the wolves two vague figures in front while Camaro followed them with little intervention from Stiles when they heard the scream. It wasn’t human but Stiles identified the terrified whinny and Immediately pulled Camaro up short, looking back at the wolves. Their eyes were burning gold and blue , their lips drawn back over glistening fangs. 

The next scream was distinctly human and Stiles felt his blood run cold. 

‘That’s Scott.’ He turned Camaro’s head and set his heels to his flanks and the stallion sprang forward like he’d been fired from a cannon, long strides eating up the ground as Stiles guided him up the slope, the wolves bounding alongside. The sound of hoofbeats coming in the opposite direction yielded a frantic Marmot. He tore past them and they came out of the trees to see the bare flat in front of them. 

The massive black shape was bigger than Stiles had expected. He hauled Camaro around, sliding from his back in one movement to roll across the ground and come up on his feet, both hands extended in front of him. Blue fire crackled along his arms, turning into lighting that illuminated a gaping red maw lined with vicious serrated teeth. The Beast’s eyes were like glowing iridescent emeralds, and he could see what Derek meant. Her coat was a blue-grey colour, spotted and striped with black and perfect for camouflage. He lashed out with a paw that was as large as a dinner plate and then fell back when the lightning hit her, roaring in pain and anger. 

Stiles coils smell burning hair and seared flesh, flinging himself to the side when she pounced. He hit the ground hard, rolling again to get clear before two shapes leaped over him and charged. He heard snarls and the Beast hissing as they leaped at her, going for the throat and flanks in the timed honoured way of wolves, worrying at her as she curled and lashed her tail. She was undeniably a cat, far larger than even the largest tiger Stiles had seen. Her face was broader, ruffed at the edges, and her bulk was impressive. Next to her Derek and Peter, who were easily twice as big as an ordinary wolf, seemed small. They were agile and fast though, releasing her to attack again and again. 

With the Beast occupied, Stiles could just make out the figure slumped on the ground. He scrambled to his feet and ran to drop down on his knees next to the prone man, wincing when he saw how horribly Scott had been mauled. His clothing was torn to reveal great gashes in his chest and stomach, the torn edges glistening like raw meat in the market. His face and mouth were bloody, bubbles forming at his lips as he gasped for breath. 

Stiles set both hands to his chest and closed his eyes, drawing on his power and focusing. He hadn’t had much teaching in the way of healing, but he’d learned enough to seal wounds that might otherwise cause death. Behind him the Beast and the wolves fought on, completely ignoring him. 

A howl tore through the night and Stiles glanced up briefly before chanting a spell under his breath. He’d learned this in Tibet, where their mystics practised peace and inner strength and instructed him in how to harness his magic. A soft white glow started to emanate from beneath his hands as he threw himself into it, hoping that he could save the man in front of him. He briefly lifted his head as five shadows burst from the woods. He saw another black wolf, so akin to Derek that he knew it must be Laura, in front. Cora was at her heels, flanked by another that was hulking and silver tipped and two that were rangier and with wheaten coats. They streamed past Stiles and joined the fray, launching themselves at the Beast. 

The cacophony of growls and snarls grew in volume as the wolves surrounded her, one darting in to attack as she tried to fend off another. She was furious, swiping clumsily with her giant paws but the wolves were fighting as only a cohesive pack could and they drove her back, away from Stiles, so he kept working, his chanting getting louder and more intense as the power flowed through him. He could feel Scott starting to respond, the edges of his wounds starting to seal together. He was still breathing erratically, sounding almost as if he was choking. 

The Beast roared one last time in defiance, but even such a formidable animal didn’t stand much chance against seven wolves and she packed away, one paw dangling uselessly before turning tail and fleeing into the darkness. The wolves watched her go and then threw back their heads, howling triumphantly into the night. 

Stiles sat back on his heels, wiping sweat from his face as he regarded his patient. Scott’s injuries were no longer bleeding but he was still wheezing like he couldn’t draw air and Stiles didn’t know what to do. A hand came down on his shoulder and he startled, looking up to see Laura next to him. She was beautiful, her pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight and her dark hair unbound. She moved to kneel on Scott’s other side, her hand on his chest and her eyes glowing red. 

‘He has a sickness.’ she explained. ‘Sometimes he cannot breathe. Melissa makes a herb power that he can inhale to ease the tightness but I fear this may be too severe. I have never seen him this bad before.’

‘Can you help him?’ Stiles asked, suddenly aware of the others coming to stand around him. They were all there, including a tall man with a mop of light curls that Stiles didn’t recognise but assumed was Isaac. He saw how she looked at them and knew they were communicating without speech. The only one who remained in wolf form was of course Peter, and he stepped closer and nosed at Laura’s cheek, making a soft little noise that sounded like encouragement. 

‘The pack has spoken.’ Laura said. ‘I will give him the bite and should he survive, he will be part of our pack. She looked to her siblings. Derek was standing with his arm around Cora’s shoulders, and they nodded. 

Stiles watched in amazement as Laura shifted into her intermediate form, her face growing sharper and her ears painting out through her hair. She bared impressive fangs and leaned down, biting through the flesh at Scott’s hip. He whined in pain but not even a minute later, his breathing began to ease. 

‘Amazing.’ Stiles breathed and Laura laughed softly. 

‘An alpha’s bite will turn a human.’ she replied. ‘As a wolf, he will be stronger and no longer afflicted by his human ailments.’ 

Stiles looked to Erica and Boyd, standing at her back. 

‘Like you.’ he said and then to Isaac. ‘And you.’ 

‘Yes.’ Boyd replied, his eyes glowing gold. ‘Laura saved us all and now we are hers.’ 

‘She protects us.’ Erica smiled. ‘And the pack is now our family.’ 

‘I understand.’ Stiles said to Laura. ‘Thank you for saving him.’

‘The McCalls have always been good people.’ Laura replied, getting to her feet. ‘Take him to the mason de chasse, keep watch over him. Tomorrow, bring him to the lodge. I will need to speak to him.’ 

‘Where are you going?’ Stiles asked. 

‘The Beast is wounded.’ Derek replied. ‘We will hunt her.’ 

‘No.’ Laura stopped next to him, her hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re going with Stiles. Make sure he gets back safely. The rest of us will handle the Beast.’ 

She dropped forward, shifting back into her wolf form before her paws hit the ground. The others followed suit and ran after her into the darkness, leaving Derek with him. 

‘Where is this place we are going?’ he asked and Derek moved to gather Scott up in his arms. He whistled and Camaro came trotting over from where he’d very sensibly avoided getting in the way. 

‘It’s where I usually stay when I am hunting.’ he replied. ‘Scott will be safe there and we can rest.’ He gave Stiles an impressed look. ‘I have questions, particularly about what you did earlier.’ 

‘Fair enough.’ Stiles waited until Derek had Scott on Camaro’s back before approaching. Derek gave him a leg up and he settled behind Scott, holding his unconscious form to his chest. ‘Lead the way.’ 

Derek shifted, trotting a couple of steps and waiting for Stiles to follow him. Stiles, still trying to juggle Scott’s dead weight grunted when Camaro lurched into a canter, just managing to hold on. He bounced and swore and nearly fell off a few times, cursing Derek for setting such a quick pace. 

‘You could slow down!’ he yelled. ‘My balls will not last this journey otherwise!’

Derek woofed once, sounding terribly amused and just sped up. 

-

The Beast was easy to track. Laura knew they’d wounded her badly enough that she was limping and her blood spotted the ground. To her wolf nose, it was like a glowing red trail and she loped along with her nose to ground. Her pack ran at her heels, each one in their place. She wasn’t a strict alpha and the hierarchy was more or less her first, followed by her uncle and sister and with her betas at the rear with Boyd, who was the biggest and strongest of the three, in the very rear position. 

She slowed to sniff where the track seemed to get lost and Peter growled at her shoulder, pointing with his snout up the massive trunk of the oak tree next to them. The blood trail went up and into the branches here, a clever move that would make the Beast more difficult to track. Not that it would make too much difference. They had been waiting for a chance to get close enough and Derek’s suggestion before he’d left to meet the Stilinskis that they patrol the woods had been a particularly astute one and when they’d heard his howl, they had been close enough to attack en masse. The objective had never been to try and kill her, but to simply wound her as much as possible.

Now they would be able to track her all the way to her lair. 

-

Stiles was surprised to say the least. When Derek had said they would be going to the mansion de chasse, he’d pictured a small wooden lodge, much like they had in Prussia. This was quite different.

‘It’s an actual house.’ he said and Derek snorted. 

The building was square and two-storied, with columns flanking the heavy wooden door. Derek shifted, going to two feet as he came to take Scott from Stiles’ arms. He was still very distracting, even dirt and blood streaked, and Stiles had to avert his eyes when the moonlight revealed a lot more than it concealed. 

‘There’s a stable around the back.’ he said, hefting the unconscious Scott easily. ‘I’ll take him inside if you can see to Camaro.’ 

‘I can.’ Stiles replied and trotted the stallion around the rear of the house. There was a small courtyard, flanked on each side by outbuildings, one of which was the stable. He untacked Camaro, rubbing him down with handfuls of straw and then making sure he was watered and his manger was full. By the time he closed the door, Stiles was starting to feel exhausted. The whole day had been long and he yawned expansively. 

He got to the front door, still standing ajar, and went in. It was a single large room, The walls were lined with shelves that held an extraordinary number of books. There were Turkish carpets on the floor, a table and chairs and two long couches in front of the huge open fireplace. Scott was lying on one of these while Derek was nowhere to be seen. 

He moved to the fireplace. It was set with logs in readiness to be burned and he knelt long enough to weave a flame between his fingers and set it to the wood, the fire bursting into life. 

‘Now that I have never seen before.’ Derek said behind him, giving Stiles enough of a fright that he clutched at his chest. Derek had dressed somewhat, loose breeches and a linen shirt backlit by the flames when Stiles moved away from the fire so they were just as revealing. Stiles swallowed hard, his mouth going dry again.

‘You need a collar with a bell.’ he grumbled and Derek chuckled. He held a kettle and moved past Stiles to hang it from the hook for that purpose. 

‘His wounds are healing.’ he said, and Stiles moved to go to check. Scott’s skin was now a rosy warm colour and he was breathing with perfect ease, although still insensible. Stiles rested a hand against his forehead and used the blade of his knife to check his breathing, but that was mostly for show.

‘He’s turning?’ he asked and Derek nodded. 

‘I can smell it.’ he replied. ‘There’s no rejection of the bite. By morning, he’ll be fully healed and we’ll have another wolf for our pack.’ 

‘We were lucky Laura was able to get to us fast enough.’ Stiles said and then caught Derek’s smug grin. ‘You planned this?’

‘We thought there was a fine chance that the Beast would attack this evening.’ he said, moving to a table next to the wall. It was stacked with cooking implements and some earthenware jars. He took one and spooned the dried leaves inside into two cups. ‘I would have preferred it to be me she had attacked, but she is wary of me now.’ 

‘It’s Kate.’ Stiles folded his arms. ‘I’m sure now.’

‘Why attack Scott then?’ Derek came to stoke the fire. 

‘He was with Allison this evening.’ Stiles moved to stand closer to him. Although he was immune to the cold, he appreciated the fire as well as the warmth Derek radiated. ‘I think his attentions were obviously noticed and I’m sure that an innkeeper’s son is not so much a match for a Vicomtesse.’ 

‘Laura will track her.’ Derek told him. ‘We drove her off tonight. It’s the first opportunity we’ve had to corner her as a pack. She’s getting sloppy.’ 

‘That means we’ll catch her soon enough.’ Stiles admired how the fire made Derek look even more beautiful, his pale eyes catching the light and looking gold. He’d never looked more wolf like and Stiles decided not to resist anymore. He moved, standing toe to toe with him, cupping Derek’s strong jaw and kissing him. 

Derek responded eagerly, letting Stile work his mouth open and lick inside. His hands came to rest on Stiles’ lapels, shoving the coat from his shoulders and pulled his shirt loose to lift over his head, all the while plundering his mouth and growling under his breath. 

Stiles laughed when Derek turned his attention to his neck, running his fingers through the thick hair on Derek’s chest through the open neck of his shirt. 

‘Are you a wolf in the house as well as in the field?’ he asked flirtatiously. Derek nipped his neck and pulled back, baring sharp fangs and letting his eyes glow blue. He caught Stiles under the thighs, his animal strength on full display as he hauled Stiles off his feet, forcing him to wrap his legs around Derek’s hips to keep upright. 

‘I will be your wolf.’ he said, his smile beautiful when he looked up at Stiles. ‘But what of you? What will you be for me?’

Stiles laughed, leaning down to close the space between them. He let his magic uncurl and heard Derek’s amazed gasp when they parted. He knew his eyes were white, his mother’s heritage unleashed as the room filled with delicate snowflakes that fell from empty air around them. 

‘I will be whatever magic you desire.’ he replied, nudging Derek’s nose with his own. ‘Just put me out of my misery and take me to your bed.’

‘I will.’ Derek licked his chin. ‘But maybe we should move upstairs.’ 

Stiles couldn’t help giggling when he made good on his word, leaving Scott to sleep and ascending the stairs to their right. He bounded up them like he was carrying nothing and they were both breathless with laughter when they made it into what was obviously an attic. The warmth from the fire below came through the floor and the only piece of furniture was a sturdy wooden bed, dressed with sheets and a multitude of pillows, thick fur throws strewn across its width. 

‘You don’t sleep on the floor?’ Stiles teased and Derek retaliated by growling and tossing him onto the bed so hard he bounced and ended up tangled in the furs. 

‘Sometimes.’ he replied, shedding his clothes quickly. ‘But then I just tip the furs off and roll around in them.’

Stiles, who had taken his cue from Derek’s rather perfunctory stripping, was wriggling furiously to get his own breeches off. He kicked them to the floor but his triumphant noise was smothered by Derek’s mouth. Their kisses turned soft and languid, dragging out and coming back together in a tangle of tongues. Stiles arched up, the friction between their bodies just enough of a stimulation that it made his toes curl but was nowhere near enough to bring him to climax. He needed more for that and would have normally been working as hard as he could to get it, but he felt no urge to rush things with Derek. He bucked up to meet the slow rolls of the wolf’s hips, running both hands down Derek’s supple flanks to grip his backside and pull him in. 

‘You’re such a demanding little thing.’ Derek’s voice was low, almost a purr. He braced himself over Stiles on his elbows, his hips snapping a little faster. The wetness from their mutual arousal was slicking the way, the drag of their cocks getting faster. ‘You’d make such a good mate for a wolf with patience and the willingness not to break your spirit.’ 

‘Are you such a wolf, Marquis?’ Stiles moaned and threw his head back when Derek ducked his own to bite his neck. ‘If you were, I would be tempted to stay here in your den forever.’ 

‘We shall have to see about that then.’ Derek shifted and lifted one hand, licking across his broad palm and reaching between them to stroke them together. The delicious feeling of silky skin, wetness from their cocks and Derek’s mouth and the push-pull in counterpart had Stiles digging his nails into Derek’s skin, hooking his ankles around Derek’s calves. 

‘When we have time, I want to fuck you.’ he breathed in his ear, the soft drag of Derek’s fangs on the sensitive skin of his throat setting his every sense on fire. ‘Would you let me?’

‘Only if I can mount you in turn.’ Derek growled. ‘Let me out you on your hands and knees and watch you push back on my cock while I knot you.’ 

‘Oh.’ That thought hadn’t occurred to Stiles and part of his brain started to wonder in great detail as to where the physiological similarities between wolves and werewolves began and ended. ‘I should like to see that.’ 

Derek laughed, warm and deep. He pulled back, his hair hanging in his eyes and his cheeks flushed with exertion. 

‘You’re incorrigible.’ he said, baring his fangs. ‘But I’ll allow it.’ 

‘Wait just a minute…’ Stiles started to protest but then Derek gave their cocks a clever twist of his wrist and he was reduced to desperate moans, riding the wave of pleasure as the wolf quickened the pace of his hand. His knees fell even further apart of their own volition and Derek made a deeply predatory noise at his wanton display. He started putting strength into his thrusts, driving hard enough to wring Stiles’ climax from him. He whined and thrashed his way through it, coming all over Derek’s hand and his own stomach. Derek worked him gently through it, taking every last tremor and shake with a very satisfied smile before he sat back on his heels between Stiles’ spread legs and finished himself off. Stiles watched with lazy interest, Derek’s grants turning to a snarl when he came, thick spurts across Stiles’ stomach where it mingled with his own release. 

He came to fall down next to Stiles, both of them now sweaty and stinking of musk and sex. They lay there catching their breath until Derek turned onto his elbow and started methodically rubbing their combined semen into Stiles’ skin before scraping off the remainder and smearing ti across his chest and stomach. 

‘Scent marking?’ Stiles was fascinated. ‘I could write an entire volume on the habits and behaviours of the werewolves of Southern France.’ 

Derek raised one dark brow at him and then rubbed the hand over Stiles’ face, shoving him into the furs and laughing when Stiles squawked at him in indignation and kicked him in the shin, finally stilling his flailing by wrapping Stiles in his arms and pulling him close. Stiles grumbled happily and let himself be moved into place, Derek a line of heat along his back. 

‘I shall expire from heatstroke at this rate.’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’m half snow-maiden, don’t forget.’ 

Derek made a happy rumbling noise and licked the tip of his nose. 

‘Go to sleep.’ he ordered. ‘We are up at dawn.’ 

‘Ugh.’ Stiles gave in and snuggled down, not bothering to fight his rising fatigue. It had been a long day and he was warm and sleepy and sated. It was a good feeling and far surpassed his narrow bed at the inn.   
He was practically asleep when he became aware of the click of toenails on floorboards and the gleam of golden eyes in the dark. 

‘Go sleep downstairs, Peter.’ Derek mumbled behind him. ‘My bed is otherwise occupied this evening.’

Peter gave an amused snort and left the room, the sounds of him settling in downstairs finally lulling Stiles to sleep. 

\- 

At the chateau, Laura shifted back into her human form and yawned expansively. 

They had tracked the Beast as far as the eastern edge of the Argent estate, confirming every suspicion she’d had as to the Beast’s identity. She’d been moving faster, healing as she went if the lack of blood trail was any indication. Laura knew now that she was some kind of shifter, although what kind exactly would no doubt elude her. She hadn’t counted on adding to her pack either, but Melissa and Scott only had each other and Laura knew how hard it was to lose family. Scott would make a good wolf on time, if he could curb his reckless nature. He had reeked of the Argent girl as well, and that would have to be dealt with too. If Kate was the Beast, as they all now believed to be the case, then having Scott consorting with her niece would not bode well. 

The others stretched and followed her into the dark lodge. Peter had left them to follow Derek and Stiles to the maison de chasse, his usual place to sleep. Laura chuckled to herself as to what he might find there. Derek hadn’t been subtle in his attraction and neither had Stiles apparently. It was good. Her brother deserved some happiness. 

‘I’m exhausted.’ Cora complained, leaning on Isaac. ‘I do not wish to woken tomorrow.’

‘The work doesn't stop just because you’ve been up early.’ Laura said, pinching her side affectionately. ‘The pigs will still need tending to, so don’t keep Isaac too late either.’ 

They went off to Cora’s room to sleep, leaving her with Erica and Boyd. Both of them had proven themselves time and time again as strong wolves, as adept at hunting as they were in her household. Now they looked concerned and she knew why. 

‘She’s strong.’ Boyd said, his face serious. ‘If we are to bring her down, we’ll need more than just the pack.’

‘I agree.’ Erica was twisting her loose hair into a plait. ‘And we’ll need a plan.’ 

‘I think we need to invite the Stilinskis for dinner tomorrow.’ Laura told them. ‘And Melissa. We need to talk about what happened to Scott and what we are going to do about the Argents. Boyd, will you go to them in the morning? I know you can be trusted to deliver the message in a manner that won’t alarm anyone.’ 

‘I will.’ Boyd moved to slide an arm around his yawning mate. ‘Come to bed, my love.’ 

Erica nodded sleepily and let him lead her down the opposite corridor to where their room was, close to the kitchen. Laura listened until their door closed and double checked that the door was locked. She had an inclination to ask Stiles to set wards over the lodge. The rise had reeked of magic when they had arrived, and she’d smelled the scorched fur and flesh on the Beast. He had struck her a devastating blow, allowing Derek to get close enough to attack. He would be a magnificent addition to his pack and her thoughts went to Deaton. Her siblings and betas didn’t know (and Peter never told), but he’d been her mother’s emissary when they were still alive. An emissary’s identity was always kept secret and when she’d become alpha in such terrible circumstances, Laura had given not thought to finding one. Marin would have been suitable, but she was not inclined. Her own pack had been killed a few years before Laura’s and she’d come to live in peace with her brother instead. 

Stiles, on the other hand, would make a very good emissary indeed. Laura was not one to believe in the kindness of fate, but perhaps his arrival was a sign. Certainly he was making her brother happy and the pack all agreed that both him and his father were good people who could be trusted. 

She went to bed, flopping into the soft sheets with a sigh and then wrinkling her nose when she realised she had forgotten to wash her feet. Erica would give her hell the next day.


	8. A New Pack Member

Scott woke with a start, yelling in protest at the wet nose in his face. That proved to be a terrible idea and he cringed at the assault on his ears. His nose met the same fate a moment later, filled with the smells of woodsmoke, wild animal and what he could recognise as male musk. He cracked one eye open and found himself face to snout with a large silver grey wolf, who was watching him with gold eyes that looked far too amused to be purely animal. 

‘Peter.’ The gently admonishing voice made the wolf snort and turn to trot over to where Derek was at a table, smiling as he pottered about. The wolf pressed his nose into Derek’s side and then took off out the open door and into the morning sunshine. 

Scott sat up, warily assessing the catalogue of aches and pains he had. He had felt like he was done for the night before but he was clearly still alive and in the hunting lodge that Derek used. 

‘What happened?’ he asked and Derek glanced over his shoulder at him. 

‘The Beast.’ he replied and Scott felt his stomach turn over. 

‘I’m still alive though.’ he said and then frowned. ‘How…?’

‘We have many things to talk about.’ Derek told him. ‘That part of the story will come up in good time. For now, I think you should eat.’ 

He came over with an earthenware plate filled with sliced cheese, ham and a chunk of bread. Scott took it gratefully. He found himself to be suddenly famised and he started eating with intent. Derek retreated to the table and returned with a cup of tea. It had a fresh herby scent and went down very nicely after the food. Derek watched him and then nodded at Scott’s midsection. It made something come back and Scott gasped and immediately started checking himself over. 

‘I remember.’ He drew off his now tattered shirt and examined himself. ‘The Beast nearly ripped me in half.’ His astonishment when he realised that he was not only intact but unblemished had him looked back at Derek, confusion making him light headed. 

‘She not only did that, but she also set off a fit of your breathing sickness.’ Derek was sombre. ‘You would have died if not for Stiles’ timely intervention and my sister’s aid.’ 

Scott let out a deep breath. He was waiting for the sickness to come, being in such an anxious state, but it didn’t and he looked up in wonder to see Derek smiling at him. 

‘What have you done?’ he asked and Derek’s eyes glowed gold before he answered. 

‘Laura gave you the Bite.’ he replied. ‘You’re now part of our pack.’ 

‘Pack?’ Scott asked and then froze when he heard a moan come from above him that sounded like something he should not have been privy to. Derek’s ears went red. 

‘Sorry.’ He glanced at the ceiling. ‘Would you excuse me a moment?’

He didn’t wait for Scott to answer, running off as if pressed and disappearing up the stairs. 

-

‘There you are.’ Stiles’ smile was warm with affection and Derek found himself wanting nothing more than to fall back into bed with him and curl up for the rest of the day. He inhaled deeply, getting the combined scent of them edged with something sharp, like a frosty winter morning. 

‘I was checking on Scott.’ He came to the edge of the bed and sat down. ‘But then you made a noise.’ 

‘Mmm.’ Stiles snuggled deeper into the furs. ‘I was hoping you’d take the hint.’ 

Derek smiled, reaching to run a hand across one pale spotted shoulder. If Stiles were a wolf, he’d have a coat that was similar. 

‘We have to be up and away.’ he said, regret colouring his voice. ‘Laura wil want us at the chateau.’ 

‘Pity.’ Stiles’ eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘I have such wonderful ideas as to how we might spend the morning.’ He sat up and stretched luxuriously, turning to nuzzle into Derek’s throat. He rumbled a soft happy growl and let him, wrapping an arm around Stiles to pull him closer, still warm and pliant with sleep. 

‘You’re going to start something we can’t finish.’ He stuck his nose in Stiles’ neck and breathed him in. ‘ Stop it.’ 

‘Yes! Stop it! Some of us can smell that!’ Scott bellowed from below and Stiles burst into delighted laughter. 

‘I guess that the bite worked.’ He looped his arms around Derek’s neck. ‘Have you broken the news to him?’

‘Not exactly.’ Derek hedged. ‘Laura will want to do that herself.’

‘Then I suppose we must make sure that she does.’ Stiles gave him a gentle shove and threw back the furs, releasing another delicious wave of scent and revealing more of that pale skin and Derek growled again, although this time it was definitely predatory.

‘Tonight.’ He reluctantly let Stiles go. ‘I am going to ravish you in every possible way I can think of.’ 

‘You’d be most welcome to.’ Stiles laughed and cast about for his clothes. 

-

‘Laura. You have to get up.’ 

Laura whined and shoved her head further under her pillow. Some days it simply didn’t pay to be the alpha.

‘Just a few more minutes.’ she mumbled and then curled in on herself when her covers were unceremoniously ripped away. 

‘No, now.’ Erica had one hand on her hip and a determined look on her face. ‘I’ve drawn your bath and Cora is busy collecting eggs for breakfast. I’ve already sent Boyd on his way to Melissa and you will need to be presentable when she and the Chevalier inevitably arrive.’ 

‘Fine.’ Laura flapped a hand at her. ‘I’m up.’ 

‘You are most certainly not.’ Erica grumbled and grabbed her by the ankles. Laura squawked and fought back but Erica had leverage on her side and they ended up in an undignified heap on the floor. 

‘I don’t know why I put up with you.’ Laura muttered, getting to her feet and more than a little trapped in her sheet. 

‘Because I’m pack and I’m also the finest housekeeper in Gevaudan.’ Erica informed her, shoving her towards the doorway.

-

Noah came down the stairs to find the kitchen awash in baked goods. He frowned and looked at Melissa, his eyebrows rising as he saw that she was not her usual immaculate self. Her hair was coming loose and her palantine was askew. She wiped her floury hands on her apron and brusquely gestured to the table, where breakfast was rather haphazardly laid out. 

‘Madame?’ He ignored the food and went to her, catching her elbow in her hand. ‘What troubles you?’

‘Scott did not come home last night.’ Melissa’s face was pale. ‘I am worried sick. I have a terrible feeling something has happened.’ 

Noah felt a cold shiver go down his spine. He gave her a pained look. 

‘My deepest apologies.’ He felt guilty as hell, both for leaving Scott behind and for sleeping through his non-return. ‘I should have made him come with us.’ 

‘Why?’ Melissa’s face turned to anger. ‘What was he doing that he refused?’ 

Noah shrugged and her face changed again to incandescent fury. 

‘He was chasing the Argent girl again?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I have told him so many times that he must be careful! When he comes home I shall skin him!’

Noah tried to calm her but she was having none of it, slamming things until she was startled by a tap at the half open door. They both turned to see Boyd standing there, hat in hand and a cautious look on his face. 

‘Pardon my intruding.’ He eased his way in, taking up a surprisingly small amount of space for such a large man. ‘Madame McCall, I have been sent by my lady to bring you to the chateau. She would like you to join her for breakfast.’ 

‘What? Why?’ Melissa asked, taking a step closer to Noah. ‘Oh, Mon dieu. He’s been taken by the Beast hasn’t he? That’s why you are here.’ Her face crumpled and Noah threw Boyd a frantic look. 

‘The Beast was out last night?’ He couldn’t fail to think about the fact that Stiles’ bed had been empty when he woke, but Noah had simply guessed that he’d finally fallen into Derek’s instead. 

‘She was.’ Boyd was sombre. ‘And yes, I am sorry to say that Scott was attacked. However, I can also bring you news that he was not killed. In fact, he will make a full recovery. He is at the chapel hospital, but you must come. Madame La Marquise was most clear on that point.’ 

Noah met his eyes and saw something there that told him everything he needed to know. 

‘My son?’ he asked, although now he was sure that Stiles had probably been in the thick of it and come out kicking like he usually did. 

‘With Monsieur le Marquis.’ Boyd replied. ‘I believe they spent the night in his maison de la chasse.’ 

His mouth quirked for just a second and Noah’s original suspicion was confirmed. 

‘Madame.’ He turned to Melissa. ‘If you will allow, it will be faster for you to ride with me.’ 

‘Of course.’ Melissa had grabbed a cloak from it’s hook and was already tying it fast. ‘I’m not some precious noblewoman that needs a carriage.’ 

\- 

‘Everything is so loud.’ Scott whined. He was behind Stiles on Camaro and clinging like a limpet. Next to them, Derek and Peter snorted at the same time. The older Hale had returned after they had eaten breakfast, Scott mowing his way through a truly terrifying amount of food, and they had all set out for the chateau. Derek had opted to go on four feet rather than two, and seeing him in the light was a whole different experience. His coat gleamed like ebony in the morning sunshine and his eyes were their same hypnotic green. He was panting happily from bounding along at Camaro’s side, and it was so endearing that Stiles had to resist cooing at him.

‘You’ll get used to it.’ The soft voice came from their right and a moment later, Isaac strode out from the trees with his chestnut mare behind him. He smiled reassuringly at Scott. ‘It’s very odd at first, but you’ll see that there are definite benefits.’ 

‘Yes.’ Stiles said tartly, wincing when a stray claw dug into his side. ‘Not being dead among them.’ 

Isaac swung into the saddle. Stiles noticed that while he wore a leather greatcoat similar to Derek’s, he was bareheaded and his thick curls were damp. 

‘You have been out long?’ he asked and Isaac drew his mare into step beside Camaro. 

‘Since sunrise.’ he replied. ‘I went to check on the animals.’ 

Derek barked softly and Isaac smiled down at him. 

‘Everything is well. The Beast did not return, at least not to here.’ He caught Stiles’ eye. ‘Thank you for helping last night.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ Stiles replied. He hadn’t spoken much with Isaac but that the feeling that he’d like him, especially when Isaac gave Scott a wicked grin. 

‘Maybe next time, you’ll listen when they tell you not to hang about at night.’ He sniggered at Scott’s unimpressed face. ‘I don’t think la Vicomtesse is worth your hide.’ 

Scott hung his head and whined, sounding far more cnaine like than Stiles had heard him sound. 

‘It seems to be a complete transformation.’ he remarked, looking down at Derek and grinned when Derek winked at him. 

The chateau courtyard was empty but for Cora, who was hauling in a load of logs for the fire. She smirked when they came trotting in and set the wood down to take Camaro’s head while Scott and Stiles dismounted. 

‘He turned.’ She was looking at Scott with great interest and Isaac nodded, taking Camaro’s reins from him. 

‘We are one wolf stronger.’ he said. ‘The Alpha will be pleased.’ 

Cora gave Scott a cool once over, nodding her approval. 

‘She’s inside.’ she said to him and Scott’s eyes were like dinner plates. 

‘What do I do?’ he asked, looking back at Stiles. ‘I don’t know how to be a wolf.’

‘It’s easy.’ Stiles laughed. ‘Just do what comes naturally.’ He looked to Isaac and Cora for confirmation and they nodded. ‘But I’ll be with you and so will Derek and Peter.’ 

They met Erica at the top of the stairs. Her hair was loosely bound with a scarf and she looked impossibly amused. 

‘You’re like a newborn pup.’ she said, taking Scott by the arm and dragging him into the building. ‘Don’t be afraid. We are all pack now.’ 

‘Derek said that already.’ He gave Stiles another frantic backward glance. 

‘Family, if you like then.’ Erica pulled him closer and rubbed her cheek against his. ‘You’ll get used to it.’ 

Once inside she lead them not to a reception room this time, but to another longer room at the end of the opposite wing. This turned out to be the kitchen, or rather a room that had been made into the kitchen. A massive scrubbed wooden table stood in the middle and to Stiles’ surprise Laura was seated there. She was dressed modestly, her dress a deep wine red cotton. It was the kind of dress a housekeeper would wear, not a marquise, and yet she looked more comfortable than she had in her finery. Like Erica, she had a scarf twisted around her dark hair, but that didn’t detract from her air of authority. She looked up from her cup of tea and her eyes flared crimson. 

Next to Stiles, Derek growled softly and moved to nudge Scott forward. He went reluctantly, avoiding Laura’s eyes as she came around the table. Peter moved to her other side, claws clicking on the wood. He sat down looking at Scott expectantly. The sound of people behind them revealed that Cora and Isaac had also come in. Derek went to flank Laura on her other side and Cora soundlessly came to take his place at Stiles’ side. 

‘Scott. Welcome.’ Laura stood tall, her shoulders back and power now radiating from her like an aura. Her eyes flared even brighter and Stiles could feel it, the magic that surrounded her and the wolves that stood at her side. 

‘That’s your cue.’ Erica hissed at him and Scott took another hesitant step forward. 

‘I don’t know what to do.’ he stuttered and Laura’s smile was kind. 

‘You’re one of my pack now, Scott.’ she said. ‘But you have to choose us.’ 

‘How do I do that?’ he asked and she held out a hand. 

‘You simply make the decision.’ she replied. ‘The magic takes care of the rest.’ 

Scott reached out slowly, but when he took Laura’s hand the tension suddenly bled from him and he all but fell into her arms. Laura caught him easily and Scott whined again and tilted his head to the side. Laura buried her nose in his neck, a deep rumbling growl coming from her chest. She scented him thoroughly and when she pulled back, Scott looked like he was drunk. Even Stiles, who wasn’t a wolf, could feel the contentment radiating off of him. 

‘The pack bond is struck.’ Cora murmured by way of explanation. ‘Witnessed by both the Right Hand and Left and the pack betas.’ 

‘That’s intriguing.’ Stiles wanted to find a quill and paper and record everything he was seeing. ‘So that is all it takes.’

‘Intention is the most important part.’ Laura said and cupped Scoitt’s face in her hands. ‘You look well. Being a wolf suits you.’ 

‘I feel…’ Scott looked dumbfounded. ‘I feel better. I have never felt this healthy before.’ 

‘No more difficulty with your breathing.’ Laura smiled. ‘Now you will be as fit and strong as we are.’ 

Scott beamed at her and then frowned, his facing changing in a second. 

‘My mother?’ he asked and Laura smiled gently. 

‘She is on her way.’ she said. ‘I sent Boyd to fetch her. While you wait, Isaac will show you the chateau . It will be a second home for you now.’ She glanced at Isaac and he came to take Scott by the arm, steering him out of the kitchen along with a chattering Erica. Cora snorted at them, then followed after beckoning to Peter. He made a reluctant noise but a low growl from her had him following.

Laura waited until they had all left and then turned to Stiles, her eyes fading back to green. 

‘Your father is coming as well. We have a strategy to discuss.’ 

‘Of course, Madame.’ Stiles felt excitement light up inside him. ‘We have her scent now.’

‘We do indeed.’ Laura rested a hand on Derek’s neck, scratching at his thick ruff. ‘Among other things.’

The knowing way she said it may have worried Stiles when he was younger but now he just laughed. 

‘Your brother may wish to be wearing trousers for this.’ he pointed out and Derek narrowed his eyes at him. 

‘I imagine that Derek was not so concerned about that last night.’ Laura kept scratching behind his ears, ignoring the outraged look he was giving her. ‘You two positively stink of each other.’ 

‘We did not wait to bathe at the maison de la chasse.’ Stiles replied. ‘I apologise.’

‘Don’t’ Laura’s eyes were sparkling. ‘I haven’t smelled my brother this happy in a very long time.’ 

Derek whined, his ears drooping in what Stiles could see was embarrassment. 

‘Good.’ he said, looking straight at him. ‘I am delighted to think I have been the cause of that.’

Derek snorted rudely and padded over, shoving his head under Stiles hand and then leaning on him with his full weight, making him topple over while Laura cackled at them. 

-

Noah slowed Zolna to a walk as they approached the courtyard. He caught a glimpse of movement to his left and grinned when he saw Peter emerge from the trees just by the gate. Melissa gasped behind him and he made a soothing noise. 

‘Be not alarmed.’ He tipped his hat to the wolf as they rode past. Peter barked once and then disappeared back into the trees. Melissa stayed quiet but he could sense her curiosity. 

In the yard, Boyd was already dismounted from the sturdy bay mare he rode. He took Zolna’s reins and nodded towards the main house. 

‘They’ll be waiting there.’ he said. Noah nodded and dismounted before holding up his arms to help Melissa off. She was less fretful now, having had a chance to digest the fact that her son had not been killed, and she swept past him without waiting or questioning why they were at the chateau and not the chapel where victims were traditionally taken. 

Noah walked quickly to catch up with her and to his surprise it was Laura who opened the door herself, dressed much as he would have expected a woman of lesser stature to have dressed. He inclined his head. 

‘Madame La Marquise…’ he began but Laura huffed impatiently and waved a hand at him, taking Melissa’s arm. 

‘Come in, Madame.’ She drew her in through the doorway. ‘Your son is most keen to see you.’ 

‘Madame.’ Melissa inclined her head, almost tripping in her haste. ‘I heard that he was set upon by the Beast.’

‘He was.’ Laura’s face was grave. ‘He is lucky to be alive. She tried to rip him apart.’

Melissa’s dark eyes grew wide.

‘Then how does he live?’ she asked, looking back at Noah in confusion. 

‘It’s a long story, Madame.’ He looked past her to Laura. ‘But I am sure Madame la Marquise will tell you everything.’ 

Laura nodded and took Melissa’s arm. 

‘Through here.’ She glanced back, a wicked smile dancing on her lips. ‘Monsieur Le Chevalier, you will find my brother and your son out in the garden behind the house. You may talk there unheard.’ 

Noah nodded in reply and waited until they had disappeared through the doorway before he moved to peer out the windows at the back of the room that overlooked the rear garden. He caught sight of two figures and chuckled, leaving the chateau and jogging down the stairs. Boyd approached as he got to the ground and then winced at the noise of a pistol firing. 

‘Shall we investigate?’ he asked and Noah gestured for him to leave the way. 

The rear garden was somewhat overgrown by the shape of what had once been a fine set of clipped hedges still delineated flower beds and open areas that would have once been for sitting. The largest clearing was stacked on one side with what appeared to be pumpkins of various sizes and set up in front of Stiles and Derek were a series of stakes. There was a pumpkin set upon each one. 

‘Father.’ Stiles’ eyes were dancing when he turned to them. ‘We are having a competition as to who has the better eye.’ 

‘Oh my.’ Noah raised an eyebrow at him. He could read Stiles like a book, one of those cheap ones printed on thin paper and which contained nothing but salacious gossip and erotica. He recognised the glowing cheeks and wide smile all too well. His son was well and truly smitten. 

That would have been bad enough but the Marquis was similarly afflicted. The tips of his ears were red and he ducked his head when Noah and Boyd reached them. 

‘Chevalier.’ he said, all politeness and Noah sighed and waved a hand at him. 

‘Too late for that, son.’ He regarded the pumpkins. ‘He’s all yours now.’ He eyed the pistols that Stiles had set on the low table in front of him. ‘You are not with Laura?’

‘She sent us out here.’ Stiles sniggered. ‘Something about stinking out the chateau.’ 

‘She’s not wrong.’ Boyd was eyeing Derek with a knowing smile on his face. ‘You could have at least bathed.’ 

‘No time.’ Derek muttered, the red intensifying. 

Noah set his hands on his hips.

‘What are the stakes?’ he asked, taking his own pistols from their place on his hips. 

‘There’s a sou riding on every decapitation.’ Stiles laughed. ‘So far we are even.’ 

‘Hmmmm.’ Noah lifted his hand, sighting along the perfect line of his pistol. He fired and the pumpkin at the end exploded in an orange splatter. 

‘Not bad.’ Stiles had his own in his hand. He took up his stace, every line just as Noah had taught him and took the next pumpkin. It suffered the same fate as Noah’s and they both looked at Derek expectantly. He sighed and lifted his hand, a wicked looking hunting knife in his grasp. 

‘You don’t use a pistol?’ Noah asked and he shook his head. The knife flew through the air and the amount of force when it hit the pumpkin was astonishing. 

‘He doesn’t need one.’ Stiles sounded and looked smug. 

‘Not normally.’ Derek said, flicking out his claws. ‘These usually suffice.’ 

‘What about you?’ Noah asked Boyd and he threw back his coat to reveal a short handled hatchet at his side. 

‘My people use these.’ he said. Noah inspected it. It was unusually shaped, the blade curved rather than straight and the haft intricately carved. 

‘They are far more dangerous than they look.’ Derek moved to stand behind Stile and Noah didn’t miss the way his son gravitated closer. 

‘I should like to see.’ he said and Boyd obliged, the axe splitting the pumpkin easily and with surprising accuracy. 

‘A fine blow.’ Stiles clapped his hands together. ‘And we still have a great many pumpkins.’

‘Erica will curse us all when she sees how much she has to cook.’ Boyd chuckled but he was already taking off his great coat. ‘A sou for every decapitation you say?’

‘I did.’ Stiles replied, practically bouncing with excitement. Noah caught his eyes, snorted a laugh and moved to take off his own coat. 

‘After you, Marquis.’ he said and Derek grinned and went to retrieve his knife.

**Author's Note:**

> Vast liberties taken with 18th Century France :))))


End file.
